


Angels of Mercy

by the_saviors_mc



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Daryl Dixon Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Motorcycle Club AU, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 63,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_saviors_mc/pseuds/the_saviors_mc
Summary: **TWD Motorcycle Club AU**After losing several of its founding members, the Saviors motorcycle club must decide whether to break the cycle of violence before they lose everything, or risk it all to exact revenge for decades worth of animosity.
Relationships: Aaron/Jesus (Walking Dead), Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s), Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Character(s), Rick Grimes/Michonne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. then the quiet explosion

“Turn ‘em on!” Rick yelled. 

He needed to do that to be heard over the roar of a dozen or so motorcycles, and as he walked up and down the line of people cowering on their knees, he cocked his shotgun. The noise reverberated in the clearing, making a few people closest to him yelp. 

At his direction, headlights suddenly flooded the space. Everyone here could see the show they were about to put on, or rather the one Negan was going to put on. He was the one with the flare for the dramatic, and usually Rick didn’t indulge him, but tonight was different. 

He held out his Python and pointed to the back of the head of the man in front of him. “Keep walking, asshole.”

The man obeyed, stopping and flinching as he walked fully into the lights. Rick poked him with the muzzle, pushing hard enough to make him stumble. He never would’ve admitted it out loud, but he was enjoying the pain he was inflicting. 

“I said keep walking!” 

Daryl was beside him, directing another man in a similar fashion, and Jesus was on the other side of him, doing the exact same thing. Carl, Aaron, and the rest of the club’s remaining members stood behind those already on their knees in a loose half-circle. 

Everyone’s faces were set. They were ready for what was coming. Each one of them deserved what was next, and it made Rick slightly dizzy with excitement to think of how much Negan was going to enjoy this. 

The night was about to get very bloody. 

“Get ‘em on their knees!” Rick instructed next. 

They were surrounded by trees, and they’d blocked off the easy entrance to the area, but he knew his voice couldn’t be heard outside of this spot. They’d planned it that way. 

There was nowhere for the Dead Ones to go. They were trapped, and they had to know it by now. It didn’t mean they wouldn’t try anything stupid. In fact, Rick could pretty much guarantee they would when they found out what Negan’s ultimate goal for the evening was, but at least they had to know it was futile. 

Rick, Daryl, and Jesus pushed the three men to their knees when they each resisted, like they had a choice in the matter. Rick glanced at the other two once he got his man on the ground, making sure the others were following suit more easily. 

“Welcome,” Daryl grunted. 

The man kneeling in front of Rick, the biggest one in the group, tried to turn his head. The light was reflecting off his bare scalp, revealing several crude tattoos, but it didn’t make him menacing like he had probably hoped they would. If anything, he looked more ridiculous somehow. 

“We can talk about this,” he tried to bargain. 

Jesus shook his head, his mouth still set in a hard line. “The time to talk is over,” he responded calmly. His voice was cold and emotionless, though his eyes were dancing with rage. “It’s time to listen. Boss has a message for you.” 

A silhouette appeared against the headlights in that next instant. A perfect reveal. Rick couldn’t help but smirk. 

A tall man, his head slightly bowed. A baseball bat hung loosely at his side. From where Rick was standing, if he stared at it straight on, the edges looked strangely fuzzy in the light. As the bat shifted, though, and the fuzziness glinted, it revealed the worst kind of truth. A majority of the bat was wrapped in barbed wire. Only the handle was bare. 

The man walked casually forward, as if he had nowhere else he wanted to be. Nowhere important, anyway. As if he didn’t have a dozen bikers on their knees and at his mercy. 

He stopped suddenly, almost like he had hit a mark, and Rick wondered if that’s exactly what had just happened. He knew Negan had a plan, so that meant there was probably a speech coming. 

Several of the lights shut off, leaving enough so that he could be seen without anyone having to squint into the brightness. The noises of the engines decreased slightly as well. 

Negan didn’t like to shout. 

The man smiled, his smirk revealing brilliantly white teeth. He looked out at the group, then at each of the men kneeling closest to him, one at a time. The same ones that Rick, Daryl, and Jesus had brought in especially for this moment. 

“Are you pissin’ your pants yet?” he asked conversationally. 

“Dead Ones don’t piss their fucking pants, asshole,” one of them sneered. He then spit in Negan’s general direction, though he came up a few inches short of hitting him. 

Rick had to curb his natural instinct to kill the man himself for the level of disrespect he’d just shown, but this was all Negan’s doing tonight. He had to be the one to swing the hammer. 

“Well,” he observed, “I have a feeling you’ll be close real soon.”

Then he lifted his bat and stared at it idly for a moment before throwing it over his shoulder easily. 

“Now,” he continued, pacing in front of the three men, “I know none of you shitheads led this motley crew. You’re just the Enforcers. And the ones in the back there, they’re just any old muscle.” He paused and then kept walking. “A dime a dozen. What you can find any given day. But you three…”

He thunked the bat on the ground in front of each of them for emphasis when he got to the last word. 

_ Thunk _ .  _ Thunk _ .  _ Thunk _ . 

“You three are special,” he drawled. “The best and the fucking brightest. The cream of the crop. You can make grown men who’ve been to war cry.” 

“Hell yeah we can, bitch,” one of them retorted. “And there’s nothin’ you can do to make us talk.”

“Well, la-di-da,” Negan chuckled. “That’s fine. I don’t want you to talk. You see…” 

He slid further into the light, revealing his black leather kutte for the first time, and the well-maintained white patches that told them of his affiliation. The three men blinked as they read them, and he gave them a moment, letting it sink in fully. 

The words on the patches were all definitive. Saviors MC. President. Angels of Mercy. And each described Negan perfectly. 

They knew they were screwed now, even if they hadn’t realized completely before. 

“I’m Negan,” he growled. 

It was completely unnecessary for him to just come out and say it now, but the way he was bent slightly in their direction and currently wearing something between a smirk and a grimace made the scene that much more dynamic. 

“And I do not appreciate you killin’ my people.”

“Also,” he added, “when I sent my people to kill your people for killin’ my people, you killed _more_ of my people. Not cool.” He paused for half a second. “You have no idea how _not_ _cool_ that shit is.”

So far, he’d been mostly nonchalant, but now his voice was dropping almost an octave and was filled with menace Rick rarely witnessed anymore. 

“But you’re gonna figure it out real soon,” he promised.

He stood back up to his full height and continued pacing excruciatingly slow in front of them. 

“You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are. Because, you see, no matter who you are, you do not mess with the world order in Charming, California.” 

He sighed heavily, like a man with way too much on his plate. 

“And the world order is this, and it’s really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, and you obviously are, you can understand it.” 

He raised his voice, making sure those in the back could hear him again. He was a pretty loud asshole all the time, but they were responsible for sending word back to their own boss, and he didn’t want this to be a he-said, he-said thing either. He wanted to make sure they understand the gravity of the mess they’d found themselves in. 

“Here goes!” he announced gleefully. “Pay attention! Leave my club alone,” he stated simply. “Or I will kill you.”

“Now,” he sighed once again, though not as big this time, “I know that is a mighty big and nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly will. I thought you’d swallowed it a long time ago, but apparently, I was  _ wrong _ . I get it. You got too big for your britches. You thought you could rule the roost because you built a little somethin’. It’s understandable. But let’s get a couple of things straight. We were here first. This is our town. There's only one cock in the proverbial henhouse that is Charming. And that is the Saviors.”

“You thought you were invincible,” Negan continued again. “I get it. But the word is out, motherfuckers. You are not invincible. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged. More pegged if you don’t do what I want. And the more you fight back, the harder it will be.”

He’d been pacing through most of his speech, swinging his bat back and forth by his side, making sure it was always visible whenever he turned, which meant he was getting close to being finished.

“Are we clear?” he hollered, his voice echoing in the clearing. 

It was followed by a deafening silence. 

“Really?” he wondered out loud. “No answer?” He shrugged. “Well, that doesn’t matter at all, as it turns out.”

One of the men went to stand up and Daryl put him back in his place quickly. Rick’s leg twitched in his direction, anticipating he might need help, but he never did. 

He bent down in front of the three men closest to him and snarled. “You really didn’t think you’d get through this without being punished, did you?”

Negan stood back up. “I don’t like killin’ people unless I have to,” he confessed. “But you killed my people. Three of my best. One was a new mom. And I can’t let that stand.” 

Aaron and Jesus both shifted at the mention of Gracie. She was barely a week old, an orphan, and both of the men had taken her in. Bringing her up here felt wrong somehow, but Negan knew what he was doing, and they all knew that. 

He paused again, turning on his heel to face them once more. “And now… you’re gonna pay.” 

Negan brandished the bat in front of his face again, grinning at it, and then down at them. “So, looks like I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.”

“This,” he said, waving the bat around slightly, “is Lucille. And she is awesome. I named her after my Momma, God rest her soul. But which one of you gets the honor, huh?”

He pointed Lucille at each of their faces in turn, close enough that if they had leaned forward in that moment, their noses would have touched the smooth wood at the end. 

Suddenly, a noise from the back of the group pulled everyone’s focus. One of the men was scrambling forward, screaming like a maniac, and hitting at anyone who tried to grab him. They returned him to his line anyway, of course, without any kind of actual damage. 

“That?” Negan said, pointing with Lucille. “Don’t do that again. I will shut that shit down. No exceptions. Not all of you have to die here tonight, but if that’s what you want, I will oblige.”

Negan bent down in front of the biggest man again. He was clearly the most angry of them all. And that meant Negan could inflict the most damage on him. 

“Sucks, don’t it?” he snapped. “That moment when you realize you don’t know shit after all?”

He stood again and kept up his pacing. “I gotta pick somebody, though,” he mused. “Everyone’s at the table waitin’ for me to decide.” He whistled thoughtfully, then shrugged. “I simply  _ cannot _ decide, so I got an idea.”

He pointed Lucille at the first man of the three. “Eeny, meeny, miney, moe,” he started to recite, pointing to each of them. As he made his way through the entire rhyme, the men started to shake. The Dead Ones acted like they were tough shit, but when it came down to it, no one was. They were all pussies. And the Saviors had always known it. 

“My mother,” Negan grinned cheekily, “told me to pick the very best one, and you are…”

Lucille landed squarely in front of the middle man’s face. “It,” he whispered. 

He stood up slowly, projecting his voice again, making sure everybody heard him. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, I will cut all your eyes out and feed ‘em to each other, and then we’ll start,” he threatened. “You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re  _ all _ gonna be doing that.” 

With no other warning, Negan raised Lucille and brought her down on the man’s head. “Oh! Look at that!” he crowed. “Takin’ it like a champ!”

He brought Lucille down again. And again. And again. 

Each time, she made a loud, wet thump when it connected with the fatty tissue on the man’s head. Soon, he was on the ground, and Negan was just hitting dirt through a wet, pulpy mass that had once been his skull. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” the man beside him screamed. 

Negan laughed, swinging Lucille in an arc so that blood spattered across the screaming man’s face. “You’re gonna kill me?” he asked. “You’re gonna kill me? Well, here’s what I have to say to that.”

He pulled back and swung Lucille across the man’s face like he was at home plate, in the middle of a major league ballpark. 

“Did I say I was gonna kill one of you?” He paused his assault to address the group again. “I’m sorry. We take blood for blood. You took three of mine. And now I’m takin’ three of yours.”

He whirled and hit the third man in the face too. Both were on the ground screaming, writhing, and trying to crawl away. Rick and Daryl stepped forward in unison, each planting a foot firmly on their backs to keep them in place. 

“Bet you thought you were gonna grow old together,” Negan taunted as he stood next to them again, following their slow progression through the dirt. “Sittin’ around the table at Sunday dinner and gettin’ the happily ever after. No,” he said loudly, slamming Lucille on the ground again. “It doesn't work like that. Not anymore.”

He started to work on another head. This time it was the one that Rick was holding down. He never flinched as he watched closely, until it was just as obliterated as the last. 

The third man was still struggling fruitlessly, writhing under Daryl’s foot. 

“Let him up,” Negan commanded. 

Daryl let him go immediately. He struggled to his feet, breathing hard and staring angrily at Negan. 

“Take your shot, Dead One,” Negan offered. 

The man lurched forward and punched Negan in the face. But it was a weak punch, and one he was ready for, so when Negan pulled back again like he was winding up for a pitch, the entire clearing heard his neck snap when the bat collided with his face again. 

He fell to the ground without another word. Then Negan smashed his face in too, for good measure, gouts of blood flying up in the air as he did. 

When he finally finished, he reeled back, heaving for breath, and adjusted his kutte. A loose piece of skin was stuck in Lucille’s barbed wire, and it flapped as he started to talk again, holding her at his side. 

“If the Dead Ones don’t back off,” he roared, “this is just me gettin’ started. Understand? Lucille is thirsty. She’s a vampire bat!”

He laughed loudly at his own joke, then pointed to the back of the crowd. “Let ‘em go,” he ordered. “You tell the story of what happened here tonight. Make a fucking impression, too. Or your head’s next. Get it?”

The Dead Ones needed no further invitation and all scrambled to get out of there as fast as possible, putting up zero fight. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t like to kill people, Rick knew that, but he was damn capable, in a wide variety of ways, when the situation called for it. 

They all waited several minutes, letting Negan catch his breath fully now that they were gone. Rick prayed no one was ridiculous enough to retaliate after this. The last thing any of them wanted was to lose more lives. On either side. But they all knew they couldn’t ignore it when stuff like this did happen, though. 

They were perpetually caught in the one of the most violent catch-22s. 

Everyone continued to wait silently for Negan to be ready. They knew better than to interrupt his thoughts, or do something monumentally dim-witted, like ask if he was okay. Of course he wasn’t okay. No one would be after something like that. 

When he did speak again, he was calm. His rage had dissipated with each blow from Lucille. His anger couldn’t bring back Ezekiel, Gabriel, or even Rosita, but it made for damn sure that someone had paid for their deaths. 

“Bury these fucking bodies. And I want the graves deep. None of that shallow bullshit the Prospects pulled last time that almost got us caught.” He paused, then glanced around, looking at each and every one of them. 

“This is over. Period. We need a fresh start.” Rick and Daryl nodded solemnly. They’d already heard this part. Even decided it together, and they were all in complete agreement, it seemed. 

“Now, get movin’. We have church at dawn.”


	2. alone together

Rick wiped his hand over the fogged up mirror, running the other through his wet hair and sighing heavily. He knew nights like these were necessary, but that certainly didn’t make them any easier. If anything, knowing what he was about to do next made it harder somehow. He was playing two very different roles depending on the situation, and neither was particularly easy. 

He prayed Negan was right, though, and that this could be the end of all the violence. He wasn’t sure he entirely believed their President was capable of it, really, but he chose to have faith. Negan had a mean streak for sure, and when he felt wronged, nothing, not even Rick, could stop him from wanting to make it right. Consequences and future risks be damned. 

Still, he was trying, and Rick knew that counted for something. It took a long time to change things in a culture like theirs, and Negan had made more progress in the last few years than entire clubs had made over their lifetimes. Bigger and badder ones had certainly been decimated in the same amount of time by too much greed and a taste for murder that was insatiable. At least when Negan did it, there was a reason, and Rick knew that couldn’t be said for others. 

A sharp knock on the bathroom door jolted him out of that line of thought. 

“Rick,” Michonne’s sweet voice called to him, “everybody’s here. If you want any food, you might wanna hurry up.”

He chuckled low. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Between all the guys and kids that gathered when the whole club showed up at his house, they went through enough food to feed several armies, but somehow there were hardly any leftovers. 

“Be out in a minute,” he explained. 

“All right.” He heard her turn to walk away and then pause, leaning closer to the door. She lowered her voice so it was only him that would hear her. “You okay?”

He shook his head even though she couldn’t see him. “Not yet, but I will be.” 

“If you need me, to talk or whatever, we can. After the kids go to bed,” she offered. 

It made him smile despite the situation. She was far too good for him, and he hoped she knew that. 

“‘Chonne?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she answered. “I’m gonna go try and wrangle all these hooligans.”

“Good luck,” he laughed. “I’ll help in a second.”

“Sure, sure,” she said, but he could hear her smiling. 

When she walked away, he pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt quickly, wanting to get out and return to something that resembled a normal life. After throwing a plaid shirt over that, and checking himself one more time for stray spots of blood or dirt, he opened the door. 

He never wanted to scare his, or anyone else’s, kids with that shit. Carl was old enough to handle it, and he was a Prospect, so he knew and had seen more than most. Especially tonight. But Judith, as fiery as she was, would always be too young and too unscathed to think about any of that. 

There were already jokes circulating about her marrying one of Shane and Melody’s kids because of them being so close in age, but as far as he was concerned, his daughter would never be marrying into this life. She would never be someone’s Old Lady. 

He took one deep breath and headed toward the source of the noise where everyone seemed to be gathered, holding out his arms so tiny Judith could jump into them as she came running around the corner. 

* * *

Negan braced his arms against the wall in the shower, bending his head so the hot water beat down his neck. As he looked down at the drain, he watched as blood stained the water and his feet. 

The clubhouse was empty, so he was alone. If he wanted to, he could break down, but it wasn’t an option. Not for him. He’d briefly considered rounding up one or two of the women who lurked around, always looking for a good time with a club member, but ultimately he had decided that this was best. Alone time was a necessary evil, even if it allowed him to let his mind wander. Besides, the kind of company he needed wasn't the kind they would provide anyway. 

If he’d had someone like Michonne, someone who he could confide in, someone who understood him, wanted to take care of him, wasn’t afraid of all this club shit, it might’ve been different. But he wasn’t the type to put a woman in danger like that. And Negan knew the life he’d chosen was dangerous. There was no way to look at it. 

Not that he thought Michonne Grimes was in any danger. Hell, she was deadlier than Rick. And Rick was always going to fall head over heels for someone. He’d known that. They’d all known it. But Rick could have that luxury because Negan did not. Negan was in charge. He did the hard shit, and he always would. All everyone else ever had to do was back him up. 

Then again, if his club was turning over a new leaf, he thought, maybe it was time for him to consider other possibilities. Then he shook his head to stop that train of thought. He needed to breathe before he could properly weigh all the pros and cons of opening himself up like that. Right now, he just needed to rest. 

As he washed the blood off his hands, his tight muscles finally relaxed. He hoped to holy Hell that this would be the last time he’d have to clean himself up like this. 

The truth was that he was tired. He was tired of the violence, tired of the endless circle of vengeance. Shit went down one day, and you had to retaliate the next. But then someone retaliated for the retaliation and it just went on and on. He’d known it had to stop for a while, and it was going to stop with him. One way or another. 

He shut off the water. If he hurried and threw on some boxers, he could catch a quick nap before church at dawn. 

* * *

“Daddy!” Judith yelled. 

She launched herself at Rick with no worries as soon as she saw him. He scooped her up mid-air and kissed her forehead. “Hey, baby.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck happily as they walked into the living room. “Mmm. All that smells good, huh, Judy? Think we should get some before all the big boys inhale it?” 

She giggled as an answer as he slipped into the kitchen. Every available surface was covered in food. Unless they were grilling out, which was his job, Michonne made the centerpiece of the meal. Pot roast sometimes, roast chicken others, and even occasionally lasagna. It was whatever she was in the mood for, and tonight, Rick smelled spaghetti and meatballs. 

“Spaghetti and meatballs?” Carl asked excitedly, echoing Rick’s enthusiasm. “Does that mean Reagan brough garlic bread?”

Rick turned and noticed the woman in question had snuck in quietly like she always did. 

“Of course,” she answered brightly, pointing to the oven. “It’s heatin’ up right now.”

“What else did you bring?” Rick joked. 

Reagan Teller owned the bakery in town and was unofficially their club cook. She always brought way more than was required of her to these club parties, but they weren't going to complain. 

“Not much,” she teased. “Garlic bread, salad with homemade dressing, cupcakes, a few pies, and a dozen or so bagels for tomorrow morning you guys can scarf down without really tastin’ them.”

“You’re the best,” Rick told her, moving over to kiss her cheek, switching Judith to his other hip. “These things wouldn’t be the same without you.” 

She smiled sweetly at him, sensing the double meaning in his words. She’d paid the price more than once where the club was concerned, losing both her Dad and her brother to the blood sport that Negan hoped to stop, so she didn’t need to be here at all. Somehow, it seemed to suit her just fine, though, to dote on all of them, despite what had been taken from her. 

“Thanks, Rick,” she answered quietly. 

“You need anything?” he wondered. 

She knew he wasn’t talking about right now. “No, Rick, I’m fine. Thank you for asking, though.”

Both their heads looked to the front door when it opened and all the kids yelled happily, “Uncle Daryl!”

Even Judith was struggling to get away from Rick before he could process what had happened. He chuckled quietly and then put her on the ground carefully, her little legs moving as fast as they could toward the crowd that had descended on Daryl. 

“Guys, I think Daryl is here,” Rick chuckled. 

He looked over in time to see Michonne and Reagan slap Carl’s hand away from the food that wasn’t quite ready, and he laughed again. Under any other lens, this would probably appear completely normal, but Rick could see what was brewing right below the surface. Regardless, he was determined to not think about what tomorrow might bring until then. 

Melody smiled over at Rick as he made his way into the living room too. She breezed right past him into the kitchen without hardly stopping. “Hey, Rick. When my too-rowdy-for-his-age brother is done wrestling, can you tell him to come find me?”

“I heard ya,” Daryl grunted from under the pile of kids on top of him. 

Shane came over to Rick and pulled him in for a hug before looking down at Judith and holding out his hands. Since she was too small to participate in the wrestling herself, she was more than thrilled to have someone pay attention to just her. 

“Oh, Judy. You’re so big!” he crowed. “Look at you.” 

She giggled again and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m gonna go make the rounds, okay?” Rick said. 

“Sure,” Shane nodded. “I got her.”

Rick nodded once and then headed off into another part of the house. Rick and Shane had been friends since high school. And it was lucky, really. Not only had he married Daryl’s little sister, but since he’d become head of the local police department, he had the club’s back. He knew they had Charming’s best interests at heart, and that made him a good and loyal ally. Those were in short supply lately, and Shane had never wavered. 

Rick said hello to everyone he saw, and their family members, making sure to give the older kids high fives and ruffle the hair of the younger ones that still let him do it. When he arrived on the porch, he frowned. He hadn’t seen the two people he’d unintentionally been searching for: Aaron and Jesus. He knew they were back from the clearing, because he’d been the last to leave. They should be here already. 

He stepped back into the hallway to check the bedrooms when he heard their voices. 

“No, that’s backwards. It goes like  _ this _ ,” Aaron insisted. 

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t the flowers be on the front?” Jesus asked innocently. 

“I looked at the picture on the package the last time I did it,” Aaron told him, getting progressively frustrated. “The flowers go in the back.”

Rick chuckled to himself, then knocked on the partially open door. “Need some help?” 

“Not if  _ someone _ would listen,” Aaron pointed out, arching an eyebrow at Jesus. 

Jesus huffed. “Well, I’m  _ sorry _ if I’ve never changed a diaper before. All I’ve been doing for the past few years is kicking ass. Literally.”

“Let me give you a crash course, okay?” Rick offered. “I’ve changed plenty of diapers in my time.”

He tickled baby Gracie’s bare tummy as he picked up the clean diaper Aaron handed him. “Aaron’s right,” Rick told Jesus, turning to wink at Aaron. 

“Thank you!” Aaron sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

“Flowers in the back,” Rick instructed, checking to make sure she’d been cleaned well before pulling open the tabs and sticking them to the diaper. “And there ya go. Good as new, baby Gracie.”

He redid her onesie quickly too before picking her up. “Who wants her, huh? I need to go help Michonne before she kicks my butt.”

He knew that the two of them were completely uncertain of both their abilities to raise a baby and their relationship, but Rick had total faith on both fronts. They were great guys, and he thought it was a blessing they’d found each other in a town as small as Charming. 

“I’ll take her,” Aaron offered quickly, reaching out. 

Jesus shook his head, stepping in front of him. “I’ll take her,” he decided. 

Rick laughed. Jesus was clearly intent on proving that he could handle her too, and Aaron was worried that he could not. 

“Don’t be a helicopter parent, Aaron,” Rick teased. “Let Jesus have the baby for a bit. That means you get to eat first.”

“Ah, man. I played myself, didn’t I?” Jesus asked as he scooped Gracie up from Rick’s arms. 

“You did,” he chuckled. “You’ll learn. Come on. Let’s all sit down and have a nice family dinner. We need it.”

“Yeah, we do,” Jesus quietly agreed, cradling Gracie against his chest. 

He looked tense, like he was afraid he was going to drop her, but Rick knew there wasn’t a world in which that would happen. He was far too careful. 

“Think Negan’s gonna show?” Aaron asked when they made it out into the hallway again. 

Rick shook his head. “Nah. I doubt it. He’ll be at the next one. He just… needs some time tonight.”

He hadn’t explicitly told Rick that, but he knew. It was written all over his face, for one thing. 

“Should we bring him something?” Jesus wondered. 

“Nah,” Rick repeated. “Reagan’ll take care of that, probably.”

He smiled at the thought of her bringing him leftovers as they made it back to the group, now hovering around the huge table. Negan and Reagan may have never made it official, but they flirted often, and everyone was secretly hoping they’d give into their obvious attraction. For now, no matter what happened, Reagan was off-limits, and she didn’t seem to mind. It was her job to take care of Negan before anybody else got the chance, and she took that seriously. 

It cheered him up, if nothing else. 

By the time Rick sat at the head of the table, trays were being passed around. Rick grabbed the one handed to him, looking around at everyone with a grin. 

Shane was whispering to Melody, making her laugh and blush. Daryl was carving small pieces of wood into animals to entertain the kids, not talking much, but clearly enjoying himself. Carl was affectionately messing up his little sister’s hair while she laughed at something he’d said. Aaron was putting food on a plate for him and another for Jesus while Jesus held Gracie, stealing glances at each other. 

He felt a hand on his arm and glanced in the direction of his wife, who gave him a warm smile. “You happy?” 

He looked at everyone one more time. “I’m perfect,” he told her. “I’m home.”

* * *

The roar of motorcycles greeted Negan just as he had put the finishing touches on the agenda he’d made for their church meeting this morning. He’d ended up staying awake all night in the end, but it hadn’t been intentional. Thankfully, he wasn’t as cranky as he assumed he might be. He’d spent the hours on one project or another, even cleaning Lucille and thinking of what the future for his club might look like. And it helped to make sure he was presentable before everyone was slated to arrive. All in all, there weren’t enough hours in the day, but he’d made it work. He always did. 

He wasn’t surprised when Reagan was the one to skip into the clubhouse first. 

“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted her sweetly. 

She beamed at him. Her expression certainly explained her nickname. She lit up the whole room. “Hey, Negan. I’ve got to head to work, but I wanted to drop this bag off for you.”

She handed over a big brown bag with handles. Without even looking, he knew it’d be full of containers of leftovers from last night’s dinner he’d skipped out on. It went like this every time he didn’t get around to showing up. But he almost groaned out loud when he saw the bagels and cream cheese sitting delicately on top. 

“Put that in the fridge when you’ve grabbed everything you want,” she instructed. 

Then she went straight for the coffee maker, stopping just long enough to put a hand on his shoulder before she passed him. 

“Thank you, Sunshine,” he murmured. 

He snuck up behind her and kissed her cheek quickly before doing as she said, taking one of the cream cheese containers and several bagels out first. He  _ was _ starving, he now realized. He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, if he remembered right. It was never good to Lucille someone on a full stomach, after all, and he’d known how that was going to end before they’d ever left the clubhouse. 

“I’ll get the chapel ready, boss,” Rick called as he walked in next. 

He didn’t stop, just walked right to the double doors that led to their infamous meeting room and went right to work. Negan waved back and nodded his assent, slicing a bagel and slathering it up with cream cheese before taking a huge bite. He’d inhaled one and started on another by the time Reagan came and gave him a mug of coffee. 

“Black, just like you like it.”

“You’re the best, Sunshine,” he teased. “I’ll come by and see you later this week, okay?”

“Okay. I’ve gotta go and get the shop open. Behave yourself. See you soon.”

He nodded once and then took a big gulp of coffee, watching her closely as she left like he always did. If any of the guys piling in noticed it, they were smart enough to keep it to themselves.

Somehow, the coffee always tasted better when she made it, but he knew that couldn’t make any difference since she pushed all the same buttons. He made sure to ignore the implications of that thought, though, as he started toward the chapel. It’d been lingering in his head for years now, but he had other worries right this second. 

He finished eating as fast as he could, polishing off his first cup of coffee and pouring another as he headed in the door finally. Everyone was already arrayed around the table, waiting for him. The only chair empty now was his, at the head. 

He went and stood there, setting down his mug first and picking up his gavel. He banged it on the pedestal and sat down. 

“All right, motherfuckers,” he greeted them seriously. “Church is in session.”


	3. shadows fall

Negan leaned back in his chair, looking over all of their faces thoughtfully. He took a deep breath and then sighed heavily once before he began. 

Everyone seemed well rested and rejuvenated, but they all exuded a level of confidence that made it clear that if push came to shove, a much different side of their personalities would make an appearance. A deadly side. 

For now, though, they were like docile little kittens. 

“You were all there last night,” he started solemnly. “And I need you to know that was the last time this club sheds blood.”

He nodded in Rick’s general direction as he continued, making sure they all knew that this decision wasn’t made by him and him alone. He didn’t work like that. 

“Both Rick and I are in agreement. This retaliation for the sake of retaliation has to stop.” He paused, making sure that sunk in. It wasn’t up for debate, and after today, he didn’t want to have this conversation again. “That doesn’t mean we’re goin’ soft, just to be clear, and it doesn’t mean we won’t protect our own. But the only way we can create any real change is to stick to that idea. We cannot lash out. We cannot kill people. Not without seriously weighing the consequences.”

Rick nodded along as Negan spoke, sitting in his customary spot to Negan’s left. Daryl was nodding too, as were Aaron and Jesus. They were all capable of being the aggressors, when the situation called for it, or defending themselves as necessary, but that didn’t mean they enjoyed it. He’d always said it took a special kind of sick to enjoy the type of punishment Negan had doled out last night. 

“Do I need to take a vote on this?” Negan asked seriously. “Is anybody opposed? I know there aren’t any specific instances to discuss right this second, but if you got into this club to bash some skulls in, I’d kinda like to know that now.”

He hoped they knew he wasn’t really directing that question at them, but more or less the Prospects. They knew them better than he did right now. He made a point not to until they were full members of the club. No point in wasting energy on someone who isn’t going to stick around. 

“We shouldn’t have a problem, boss,” Daryl offered, catching his double meaning. 

Negan nodded. “I want you all to understand why,” he continued. “I know that this is the way things have been for a lot of clubs, not just ours, for a long-ass time. And I get that it’s hard to accept such a big fuckin’ deviation from the norm, but we gotta look back on everything we’ve lost. And ask ourselves if we’re willin’ to lose anymore.” 

He looked toward the doors of the chapel before he turned his attention to the large reaper carved in the middle of the table they were all stationed around, tracing the scythe with his eyes. 

“We lost Ezekiel, Gabe, and Rosie recently, and they’re not the only ones. I mean, hell, Reagan lost her dad and brother over our shit along the way.”

Each of them nodded along as he rattled off their biggest losses, matching his seriousness. Reagan was always his go-to example too. No one in the club thought for a minute she had deserved such an unlucky hand, so it was the easiest way to get them on track. To get them to grasp the severity. 

“And we all know there have been others,” he kept up. “And while I do believe that we’ve contained the carnage admirably, it’s still too much for me to stomach. Anyone could be next. Another member. Another part of our family. And I don’t want the scythe to land anywhere near us ever again. Hell, unless someone’s dying in their bed because they’re fuckin’ 103, I don’t wanna feel like this again.” 

Daryl and Rick both grunted a sort of half-response to his speech. Rick was usually more decisive than that when he spoke, but bringing up Reagan usually left most of them basically speechless. 

“Are we going totally legit?”Aaron wondered out loud. “Ditching the pharmaceuticals?”

Negan shook his head slowly. “Not the plan. We can put that on the table for discussion if you want, but running pharma helps a lot of people in town, and the risk is minimal. We do, however, need to invest in  _ somethin’ _ legit so we can stabilize our cash flow and get back on our feet after the last few weeks of bullshit.”

“Not a lot to invest in inside Charming,” Jesus pointed out. “Not anything that’s gonna make us enough money, anyway.”

“We know,” Rick stepped in. “That’s why we need to think of some new ideas, get some feelers out, see what we can come up with. For now, we’ve got enough cash leftover from everything we’ve been doing to hold out for a while, if we need to.”

“What about somethin’ completely new?” Daryl grunted. “Not, like, a chain or anything.”

Negan chuckled humorlessly at Daryl’s obvious observation at the likelihood of  _ that _ inside city limits. In fact, it was one of the things Negan loved about Charming. It was all mom and pop shops, and any chain that had tried to set up in Charming had been actively ignored until they left on their own. 

“Yeah, I get it,” Negan agreed. “Problem is, it’s gotta be small, somethin’ we don’t already have, and somethin’ we need. It’s gotta be big enough to make some serious cash, like Jesus said, but it can’t step on anyone’s toes. I’m not trying to upend anyone’s life here.” He paused. “We don’t need an answer today. Like Rick said, let’s think about it. Poke around a bit, see what we hear. We’ll have another meeting in a few days. For now, bring anything you find to me or Rick and discuss it. Cool?”

Heads bobbed around the table once again. “All right,” Negan said, clapping his hands together “Now that that’s outta the way, we’ve got one more order of business, and imma let Rick handle it.” 

Everyone turned their attention to their Vice President, who paused before he started as well. “The Feds are sniffin’ around again,” he revealed. “Shane gave me the heads up last night. He doesn’t know exactly what they’re lookin’ for yet. Probably the usual,” he explained. “And he’ll do as much as he can on his end, like he always does, but he can’t keep ‘em off our backs forever if they find something definitive, so don’t give ‘em anything to find. Okay?”

“Money?” Daryl chimed in. 

“We’ve got quite a bit to wash still,” Negan informed them. “But if we find a legit business soon, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore. Just keep big purchases to a minimum, no matter what they’re for.”

They all said something in the way of a quiet agreement as Negan ran his hand over his beard. Suddenly, he was tired as shit. He knew he’d hit a wall eventually, but he had hoped it’d hold off a little while longer so he could enjoy more of that food Reagan had brought over. Right now, though, he just really wanted a damn nap. 

“All right. I know we all had a rough night, so let’s wrap this up. Anybody else wanna talk about something? Discuss your feelings and shit?”

Everyone shook their head, most with a small hint of a smile at his attempt at humor. 

“Good. Just keep your head on a swivel and I’ll let you know when we’re havin’ church again. Meeting adjourned.”

He stood, waiting for everyone else to file out before he followed. Rick lingered, falling into step beside him as they left the room together. 

“You okay, boss?” he asked quietly. 

Rick looked at him sideways and Negan did the same, nodding. “Yeah. Just tired. Need a nap and shit. Then I’ll eat and get back to work in a few hours. Why?”

“You know I can handle this, right? You can take the day off,” Rick urged him. 

Negan chuckled lightly. “Nah. Not a chance. I run this shit, ‘member? Can’t take a day off. But it’s okay. I don’t really want one anyway. You know me.”

“All work and no play…” Rick joked, letting his words linger in the air as he nudged Negan’s shoulder playfully. 

“Makes Negan a dull boy? Yeah, I don’t care. I don’t have time for that either. I’ll be dull when I’m dead.”

Rick shook his head, his expression changing to something more serious. “Go see Reagan,” he said. “Get some fresh air. Maybe, oh, I don’t know, go out for dinner. Be normal.”

“Hold on, you want me to be normal too?” Negan teased. “And no. No. The last thing Reagan needs right now is me and all the shit that comes with me.”

“Better ask her ‘fore you’re too old,” Rick said, laughing heartily. “That way you two can still pop out a few kids.”

Negan snorted. “Me. As a dad? Can you seriously imagine that shit? I’d be horrible. And besides, I’m too busy babysittin’ you fuckers.”

Rick laughed loudly again at his assessment. “All right. All right. I’ll drop it. For now,” he warned. “See ya later, boss.”

“Later, Grimes. Say hi to Michonne for me.”

“Will do.” He paused by the back door as Negan lingered near the bartop. “You need to be at the next family dinner, though, or she’s gonna tear you a new one.”

“Duly noted,” Negan winked. 

Rick nodded once and then disappeared through the door, leaving Negan alone again with a few people still lingering from the meeting. Most were having breakfast, playing pool, or just relaxing. Negan nodded or acknowledged every person left as he walked by on the way to his apartment. Sure, he had a house in town, but more often than not, he chose to stay here. 

It was easier, in more ways than one. 

As he fell onto the bed without bothering to take anything off, he groaned loudly. He was too tired to care at the moment. Besides, after he got some rest, even the fitful kind, he was still going to be forced to wake up and figure out what to do with his club. 


	4. please notice

Daryl sighed as he turned off his bike and stared up at his sister’s front door. He shook out his shoulders as a way to hype himself up to get ready to head inside. She’d made him promise to have dinner at least once a week here, with her and her family, and apparently, big club dinners didn’t count. 

He would’ve preferred to be alone a little while longer, honestly. Not that he’d tell her that. It was just too hard to get his head right after so much violence. He didn’t want to bring any of that shit around his sister or her family. It was easier when there was the buffer of a huge crowd of people, but when it was just Melody, Shane, and the kids, it was hard not to feel like he stuck out. It wasn’t their fault either. It was his own hang-up. 

It was true that Shane was a valuable ally, and he was family, but it wasn't the same as being one of the guys from the club. He wasn’t privy to most of what went down. Not because he wasn't trusted, but because he wanted it that way. He needed plausible deniability, he always said. Not that he  _ couldn’t _ lie, but it was better if it wasn’t a necessity. And it was hard for Daryl to not want to be left alone with his emotions after something like that. With Melody and them, it felt like he had to be ‘on’ while he was over at the house. 

As he stood with his hand hovering over the doorknob, he got himself as right as he could and then burst through, hollering loudly, “Uncle Daryl’s here!” 

He knew it was better not to dwell on it right before walking inside, and today he’d failed miserably, but that didn’t mean that anyone had to be the wiser to what was going on in his head. 

The kids never tired of his boisterous spirit, at least, and sure enough, they were all at the door in under a minute, hugging him and trying to excitedly tell what had happened during each of their days at once. 

As soon as the door was shut behind him again, Daryl shrugged out of his kutte while the kids tried to pull him in a million different directions. He placed it gingerly on the couch to his left and started walking further inside the house.

“All right, all right,” Melody called from the kitchen. “How about we help Uncle Daryl set the table and save the talk for dinner, huh?”

Most of the kids groaned at her proposal, but Daryl knew that was probably best. He really did want to know all of it, so this was better. 

“Ain’t in the door five seconds and she’s already puttin’ me to work,” Daryl joked, scoffing dramatically and winking at her as he passed by the kitchen. 

She raised her eyebrows playfully at him and he mocked her expression, causing her to smirk, but never fully smile as she turned back to getting dinner ready for everyone. 

In turn, he scooped the youngest two kids up, one under each arm, letting the teenagers fall into step at his side as they all headed for the table. Thankfully, as they started setting out plates, cups, and silverware, everyone took a turn telling him the most important part of their day. 

By the time all the food was on the table too––a huge pot roast, mashed potatoes, and a bunch of vegetables––he’d gotten the lowdown on most of it. They repeated it again for their parents, who were at the ends of the table, listening respectfully and patiently. 

It was the kind of set-up that Daryl had always wanted for himself, but had written off a long time ago. It was nice to have these two to live vicariously through, though. All the fun, none of the responsibility. 

After dessert had been eaten too, Daryl pushed back his plate finally, the kids went off in search of homework and nighttime routines as he, Melody, and Shane cleaned up the mess left by everyone. 

Shane reached over as the last plate was being cleared and grabbed his shoulder. “Nice to see you in one piece, bro,” he said genuinely. “I heard, uh… well, you know.”

Daryl gave him a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

Shane cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck next as he handed over the last plate to Melody to put in the dishwasher. He wanted to ask something he wasn’t sure how to approach, which made Daryl slightly nervous. They’d always been very open with each other, and if Shane felt like he couldn’t do that now, it was bad. 

“So, uh, I heard y’all were lookin’ for a legit business to invest in that’s inside Charming, right?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

Daryl leaned on the counter, Melody between them cleaning quietly, humming a song he couldn’t place as Shane seemed to become increasingly uncomfortable with the topic, but he had no idea why that’d be. Granted, maybe it was about something else entirely and Daryl was missing the whole point. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Bunch of people have called, uh, into the station. Apparently, a porn studio is trying to buy up the warehouse over on 4th.”

A dish clattered in the sink loudly and Melody cursed under her breath as she picked it back up. “Excuse me? Did you say porn?”

Ah. It wasn’t Daryl he was nervous to tell. It was Melody. While he wasn’t happy to think that there was something that might come between them, especially this, it was nice to know their own relationship as friends was as normal as ever. 

“No shops,” Shane clarified. “Just a studio.”

Daryl snorted his laughter as his brother-in-law tried to find a peaceful way out of this conversation. 

“Still,” Melody continued, wiping her wet hands off on a towel. “Maybe those people are right, Shane. Do you really want some porn studio and a bunch of ‘actors’ strutting around town?”

“Struttin’?” Daryl scoffed. “He said porn. Not prostitution.”

“Same thing,” Melody said snarkily. “You know I’m right.”

“You are not,” Daryl retorted. “It’s just porn, Mel. Calm down.”

He turned back to Shane and ignored Melody as she stormed out of the room. He could tell Shane wanted to go after her, but he turned back to Daryl after a second, probably knowing this wasn’t as big of a deal as she, or anyone else, was making it. 

“Sounds like it’d bring a lot of business into town,” Daryl continued. “Jobs, too.”

“Huh?” he asked, shaking his head to get back into the conversation. “Oh, uh, yeah. That was my thought, actually. I think that the old-timers in town might just be objecting for the hell of it, honestly. No shops, like I said before.”

Daryl waved his hand dismissively. “She’ll be fine. Especially once she realizes what the point of this thing is.”

“I get that it’s sketchy and not at all conventional, but it could be a better situation than the one you guys currently have. You don’t have to take it to Negan, though. I understand.”

“Nah, I like it.”

Shane’s eyebrows went up like Melody’s had earlier at his comment, and then he smiled and chuckled quietly. 

“Oh, shut up. You know what I meant,” Daryl grunted. 

“I know, man. I know.” 

Both their smiles faded, though, when they heard Melody re-enter the room and their conversation. 

“I get it,” she announced suddenly. “But I don’t like it. I mean, it’s porn. It’s literally a job you do on your back. It’s… gross.”

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “Come on, Mel. It’s not just actors and actresses they’ll need, okay? There’s cameras, maintenance, food, security, all sorts of stuff, right? That means money in Charming. And I haven’t talked to anybody yet. We know nothing. It’s just an idea. But it’s one of the only ones we got right now that doesn’t involve your innocent little baby brother doing something illegal. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Innocent my ass,” she teased. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with porn stars, hun,” Shane added unnecessarily. “If that’s what somebody wants to do.”

“Dude,” Daryl hissed. “I had it.”

“What do you know about porn stars, sweetheart?” she cooed seductively. 

“Not a thing. Not a damn thing,” Shane sang, winking at her as she sauntered over. “I’m just sayin’ it’s not our place to judge. That’s all.”

“Nice save,” Daryl joked. 

Melody giggled quietly and then wrapped her arms around her husband before giving him a quick kiss and turning back to Daryl. 

“Just… make sure this is about Charming. We have families and stuff here. I don’t want it to get all  _ Breaking Bad _ up in this piece, okay?”

“Up in this piece?” Daryl repeated. “Who are you and what have you done with Melody?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said sweetly. “I have a  _ very _ checkered past.”

Shane and Daryl both burst out laughing as soon as the words left her mouth and slowly a smile spread on her face too. 

“Oh, shut up. Both of ya. I’m going to put the kids down. Be good, Daryl,” she warned. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Daryl said, nodding to her as she gave him a quick hug. 

“And you know my rules,” Melody said as she walked to the hallway. 

“I do,” Daryl confirmed. 

Each of them was basically as long-standing of a tradition as the club charter, at this point, so he wasn’t sure why she still, to this day, tried to pound them into his head. As long as she and her family were kept out of harm’s way, she was fine with whatever happened. And so far, the club had always done what she asked, even when things had gotten really hairy, like they had over the past few months. 

“So, what do you really think?” he asked Shane when he was sure Melody was gone again. 

Shane shrugged. “I think you’re right. It’ll help the economy. It’s not like it’s gonna be L.A. or something. No studio on every corner, place flooded with talent. We’re close enough we can hopefully get some good writers and film crew, but none of that hippie-ass culture. If it can stay one isolated business venture, we should be fine.”

“I agree,” Daryl said. “Mind puttin’ me in touch with the people workin’ on the project?”

“Yes, sir. Got it right here. Take it to the club and see what they think, obviously,” he said, getting up and going to his desk nearby. “I mean, I’m not gonna complain if you guys find a legal way to make money. Makes my life a whole hell of a lot easier.”

Daryl chuckled. “Yeah. Nothin’ wrong with that. I’ll stop by Rick’s on the way home, actually, see what he thinks. If he’s not on board, Negan will never agree.”

“True,” Shane laughed. He continued to shuffle around several pieces of scrap paper before coming back with one brightly colored slip. He handed it over to Daryl. “Good luck, man.”

Daryl nodded. “Thanks for dinner. Promise I’ll be back next week.”

“Lookin’ forward to it. As always,” Shane informed him. “Call me if you need anything, all right?”

“Will do.”

Daryl gave him one more hug before grabbing his kutte and heading back outside. It didn’t bother him not to have it when he was in their house, but he felt exposed without it when he was on his bike, and it wasn’t allowed either way. He rarely took it off anymore. It was almost like a wedding ring to him, but he understood his sister’s hesitation at being so blatantly reminded of his career choice when it was just the two of them. 

He started his bike and let the feeling it always gave him overwhelm all his senses before starting toward Rick’s house only a few streets away. Now that he had a lead, he was eager to see if it could be the steps the club needed to find a brighter future after all. 


	5. i'm not okay (i promise)

Negan opened the door to the bakery and the bell jingled as it closed behind him. Reagan’s cheerful voice echoed from the back as soon as she heard it. 

“Thanks so much for comin’ in! I’ll be with you in just a minute.” 

Negan smirked, biting his lip and running his hand over his beard as he went to lean against the counter as she waited for her to appear. No one else was in the shop right now, and he was glad for it. He’d purposely missed the breakfast rush, and the lunch rush wouldn’t be here for a while. 

He pretended, each time, like it was just a way to check on one of the remaining family members, but it was more than that. While most people were well aware, they knew better than to say it as bluntly. 

Negan took a deep breath and sighed. It always smelled amazing in here. Reagan baked everything fresh every single day, and although most of what she sold was simple, it was insanely delicious too. Seriously. He was pretty damn sure a sandwich wasn’t supposed to taste as good as she made it. 

When she finally slipped behind the counter from the back, tying her apron as she went, he noticed the way her hair framed her face from where it had fallen from her messy bun piled high on top of her head. When she saw him, her face broke out in that gorgeous smile he loved and she beamed up at him, leaning over the counter excitedly to give him a hug. 

“Hey, Negan,” she greeted him, blushing deeply. “I wasn’t sure when you were gonna be in again.”

“Been a few tough days, Sunshine,” he told her as she pulled back. “Nothing I wanted you around, for sure.”

He reached out and smoothed a stray lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. Her lips twitched at his touch and she leaned into it, but didn’t say anything. 

This was the game they played. He visited her, they flirted, but that was it. It never went any further. 

For him, it was out of respect. For her and her family. Her father had been one of the founding members of their club. He’d gone to prison and taken the fall for all of them when the hammer came down the first time, and he’d died there. 

Then her brother had been stupid enough to get involved in some beef with a rival club in the area. Several members had unexpectedly showed up at their house. She’d been there that time, and she’d tried to protect her brother. Getting stabbed in the hand was the least traumatic thing that had happened to her in the end, especially with the fact that her mom had passed away a few months earlier. Negan had no idea how she was still standing, but he was more than glad she was. 

His hand fell over hers and he traced the scar there. “Need anything, Sunshine? You’re okay, right? Nothin’ crazy?”

She shook her head. “I’m good, Negan. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“You know you can call me anytime, right?” he questioned. “I don’t care if it’s two in the morning. Anybody comes in here botherin’ you, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

She tilted her head, reaching up and gently touching his cheek. He allowed himself a few seconds of peace there, letting his eyes close briefly. 

The last thing she needed was to be an Old Lady, and least of all his. She needed a nice, respectable husband who would provide for her and protect her in the right way. She didn’t need the President of a rebellious, and often lawless, motorcycle club. And definitely not the same club that had killed most of her family. 

Still, when it was quiet, and just then, he gave himself permission to think of the life they might have shared in any other set of circumstances. 

He artfully ignored the little voice in the back of his head that reminded him that the only reason her mom had survived her cancer for so long, and this bakery of hers was still in business, was because of the medicine the club provided. He both wanted to give it up for her and knew he couldn’t, for the same damn reason. 

“Is somethin’ else happening, Negan? I thought whatever went down the other night ended the whole feud thing that’s been going on.”

He nodded. “It did. I promise,” he assured her. “And you’re not supposed to know about that, missy.”

He waggled his finger at her in an attempt to reprimand her for hearing more than she should, but she just wrinkled her nose at him and winked. 

“I can hold my own, Negan.”

“I know,” he admitted thoughtfully. 

There was another moment of lingering silence between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it  _ was _ loaded. And Negan was never going to be ready to fire that particular gun. As much as he liked her, he felt she was off-limits and always would be. Not just because of his safety concerns, but because she was a legacy. Because he’d come up with her family. She should be more like a sister, but that wasn’t even remotely how he felt about her. 

“Let me get you something to eat,” she finally offered “I bet you skipped breakfast, didn’t you?”

He smirked. “Yeah. But only because I was waitin’ to come here and get my hands on your buns,” he drawled, falling easily into the teasing comments. 

“Negan!” she squeaked, laughing loudly and playfully smacking him in the shoulder. “You’re so bad.”

But she clearly enjoyed it. No one smiled that much and blushed that hard when they really wanted someone to cut it out. Or at least he hoped. 

He shrugged as she opened the glass door to her impeccably laid out display case. “It was such an obvious pun,” he argued. “I had to.” 

She shook her head at him and scoffed in mock disapproval as she grabbed a cinnamon roll the size of his face and put it on a plate for him. Then she went over and poured a huge mug of coffee and placed it next to the cinnamon roll. 

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he murmured. 

He leaned down slightly and kissed her cheek before taking his breakfast to a table. He sat down facing the counter so he could keep an eye on her while he ate. 

She bit her lip as she started to count out things and get ready for the next round of customers, and Negan found it very hard to stop staring. He know if she caught him, she wouldn’t say a thing, but it wasn’t polite. 

He tried a couple of times to let the cinnamon roll regain his attention, but it wasn’t working. When he did finally manage to take a bite, the next time he looked up at her she was watching him carefully. She was still biting her damn lip, and he found himself wanting to beg her to stop it. She was making it very difficult to play by the rules he’d set, and all she was doing was absentmindedly biting the very lip he was interested in biting himself. 

Then the bell over the door jingled and the spell was broken. 

“Hey, Daryl.”

She waved and Negan turned to see his Sergeant-at-Arms. They greeted each other silently with a simple nod as he continued to the counter. 

“Want a blueberry bagel with honey cream cheese and some coffee?”

“Sure thing, Reagan. Thanks.”

She busied herself with his order and Daryl decided to forgo the counter altogether and sit down with Negan instead. 

“You eat like a damn squirrel,” Negan commented when Daryl slid into the booth too. “Blueberries? Honey? May as well live in the woods and shit.”

Daryl shrugged. “Eat how I want,” he grunted. “Least I don’t come here to flirt with her and never do anything ‘bout it.”

Negan cocked an eyebrow at him. “Don’t start talking shit to me now, Daryl,” he warned. 

He kept his voice light, even though he meant the words, so Daryl knew that he was still allowed to bullshit with him and call him out when necessary, but Sunshine was out of the realm of possibility for discussion or light teasing. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Daryl replied, letting it drop. “We still riding out to Vancouver today?”

“Of course,” he said. “Unless Rick or Shane said somethin’?”

“Nah. I don’t think so. I’m just tired.”

Reagan dropped off his bagel and coffee. “You guys are taking a ride already?”

Negan nodded. “Yeah. Got a shipment to pick up.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Wanna keep a low profile for a while, so yeah,” Negan explained. “Rick and Carl are back at the clubhouse doin’ the books, gettin’ everything in order.”

“Hmm, well, let me pack you guys some stuff for the road, huh?”

“We’ll be fine, Sunshine,” he assured her, noticing her look of concern. 

She adjusted her features quickly. “Oh, I know. I’ll talk to Michonne too, and bring some things for Rick, Carl, and the other guys while you’re gone.”

“Thanks, Reagan,” Daryl said again. 

“Appreciate it, Sunshine.”

She smiled back at them, the same easy smile he loved, and then went behind the counter to get things ready. By the time they finished eating, she had packed two small coolers with sandwiches, muffins, bagels, cream cheese, rolls, and a few more cinnamon rolls for Negan. She even had some to-go coffees to keep them awake. 

As she handed everything over, she still seemed uneasy, but she was trying to hide it. “Coolers should fit on the back of your bikes. And then you shouldn’t have to stop so much.”

“You’re too good to us, Sunshine.” Negan leaned in to kiss her cheek again as they stood by the door now. “If you need anything while we’re gone, call Rick, okay?”

“I will. I promise. Be safe.”

He nodded, reaching out and squeezing her hand once. “I’ll come see you when I’m back in town, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

Despite the overall tone of doom and gloom he wasn’t used to out of Reagan, her eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again, so that was something. 

He strode out before he promised her a whole bunch of things that could never happen, Daryl right on his heels. 

* * *

They rode for most of the day, taking as few breaks as possible. When they did, they dug into some of what Reagan had packed for them. As they sat and ate one of those times, Daryl finally broached the subject of the porn studio, filling Negan in on all the details he had. 

“So, whaddya think?” Daryl wondered, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“I don’t know,” Negan muttered. “I get it, but I just… it feels like a thin line, ya know?”

Daryl nodded. “I know, but we’d make sure everybody was treated right. And that nothing affects Charming in a bad way. Both Rick and Shane think it’s more than possible.”

“But both Melody and Michonne don’t like it,” Negan reminded Daryl of the earlier part of his story. 

He rolled his eyes. “They’re both women who don’t like porn. It’s not that big of a stretch.”

Negan took another bite and then chewed slowly. “Eh, maybe with Melody, but not ‘Chonne.”

“Well, she don’t hate it or anything. She just wants us to be careful. Like you were sayin’.”

“And it’s not a cover for prostitution?” Negan asked. “I mean, I hate to sound like I’m beating a dead horse here, but…”

“Nah, I get it,” Daryl interrupted. “And no. I talked to the guy. He’s already got a real good writer lined up, most of the actors, and he just needs some more cash flow to get it off the ground.”

“Why Charming?” 

It was really the only question Negan still had. Charming wasn’t exactly the porn capital of the world. Nor would it ever be, so why stick it there? What would anyone have to gain, or more importantly lose, by doing that? 

“He thinks it’ll be quiet and they won’t have any competition for space,” Daryl explained easily. “I thought about that too.”

Negan nodded again and finished off his sandwich. “Well, I think Michonne’s right about the medical weed thing. I’m tired of moving all that shit around all the time. It’ll be cheaper if we can just build it under the warehouse, ya know? How’d she come up with that?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. Said something about a movie she watched. I dunno,” he repeated. 

“Well, it’s a good fucking idea.”

It was Daryl’s turn to nod as they stood up and threw away their trash, heading straight for their bikes a few short paces away. 

“I’m on board,” Negan announced as they straddled their bikes and strapped on their helmets again. “But if we do this, it’s your thing. Me and Rick can’t handle it. You gotta be in charge. You cool with that?”

Daryl nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that. I haven’t had anything that was just mine to take care of in a while, really.”

“Good. When we’re back, set up a call with this guy. I wanna feel him out too. We’ll discuss all the nitty-gritty and get going on it. The sooner, the better. I wanna be legit as soon as we can.” 

“You got it, boss.” 

They both started their bikes up at the same time and headed back to the nearby highway, intent on finishing this run as quickly as they could. They’d have to rest eventually, but they’d be back from this one faster than they had in a while. Negan could tell. 


	6. daylight goodbye

The breakfast rush was over, and Reagan was busily cleaning before the lunch crowd wandered in. She was in an exceptionally good mood today, and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. Late last night she had heard Negan’s motorcycle ambling into town, which meant it was only a matter of time before he showed up. 

While she was also a little nervous, she was mostly excited by the prospect. She had decided to finally broach the subject they’d been tiptoeing around for years. She’d heard, through the club grapevine, that there were some big changes coming up. Changes that might mean Negan was ready to start up a relationship, a serious one. She knew what his objections were, and she appreciated them. But she was ready. She’d always been ready, in fact. And she felt like he’d had enough time to wallow in his self-pity. She wanted him, and dammit, it was going to happen. 

Somehow. 

She hadn’t quite figured out  _ exactly _ what to say yet. Negan was tricky when it came to her, and personal stuff in general. She knew she had to do it right, or else it’d backfire on her completely. Negan was really all she had left. She didn’t want to lose him forever either. 

The bell over the door chimed as she was counting things up, her back turned to the door. When she spun around, she eagerly looked up and was instantly disappointed that it wasn’t her favorite club President standing there. But she quickly rearranged her face into a smile since it was a still a customer. 

“Hello,” she greeted him cheerfully. “Welcome to Rollin’ in the Dough. What can I do for you today?”

The man smiled. Reagan was sure he did that a lot too, and he probably assumed it put people at ease, but for her it just made her nervous. And not nervous in the way she’d been a few seconds ago. This kind of nervous was her gut telling her to run, but she had no idea why. Other than his overwhelming size, nothing about him screamed dangerous. 

He had long brown hair he wore in a bun that fell on the back of his neck. He had layers of jackets, scarves, and even some fingerless gloves, despite the fact that it wasn’t at all cold outside. If it wasn’t so obviously intentional, she might have assumed he was homeless. 

“Hello, Ms. Teller,” he greeted her smoothly. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

He came up to the counter slowly and took her hand in his, bending down to kiss her knuckles. She frowned while his head was still bent, but her smile was back once he raised it. 

He didn’t know her well enough to see that it was fake.

“My name is Beta,” he said humbly. “I’m new to Charming, hoping to open a branch of the Great Harvest Bread Company, actually, and I wanted to… well.” He raised his arms and gestured to her store. “Check out the competition, I guess you could say.”

Her mouth immediately set into a hard line and she crossed her arms over her chest. Getting confirmation that he wasn’t a customer made it very easy to pivot. This guy was a shit-slinger through and through. He was  _ acting _ friendly, but she would’ve bet the entire contents of her cash register that he was sleazy as fuck. 

“You’ve come to the wrong place if you wanna open a chain,” she replied coolly. “Charming doesn’t like big companies very much. In fact,” she continued, feigning sweetness, “every single one that’s tried to make a go of it here has failed. You should probably get out now before you lose a lot of money… and time.”

Reagan knew not to mention, of course, that the resistance was led by a certain motorcycle club. It didn’t matter either, because the townspeople were on board and had been for years. They preferred Charming the way it was, a haven for small businesses who would always be protected by leather-clad hooligans with good intentions. 

Beta held up both his hands in a defensive posture. “Well, pardon me, ma’am,” he chuckled. “I do appreciate the advice, but the wheels are already in motion. I’m gonna give it a go.”

He sidestepped until he was in front of her display case, glancing at it and then the prices on her handwritten menu. He gave her a wink that made her want to slap him. 

“So, where do you buy these from, Ms. Teller?”

She huffed indignantly. “I don’t buy anything from anywhere. I make it all from scratch. Fresh everyday.” 

Beta smirked. “Just feelin’ you out, Ms. Teller. I’m sure you don’t. Everything looks… delicious.”

Of course, when he said that last bit, he made sure he was looking her up and down, and not her case of food. She felt exposed and gross to have him staring at her like that. She could feel herself shutting down too. A coping mechanism she hated. 

“Well, I don’t appreciate the assumption, even as a joke, just for the record,” she told him firmly. 

“You know,” he said, switching back to a conversational tone. “Great Harvest bakes everything fresh as well.”

“Using generic corporate recipes and factories full of machines,” she retorted. “Not exactly homemade, if you know what I mean. It’s all pre-mixed doughs, molds, break and bake with instructions. People can do that at home.” 

“Ah, everything made with love?” he teased. 

“Of course.”

“Still,” he said, looking back down at the case. “Love can’t beat perfection every single time, the ability to produce quickly, and a cheap price tag.”

“You’d be surprised,” she disagreed. “And my products are pretty perfect every time I make them, even without being stamped out on a production line.”

He stood back up to his full height and seemed to take in her expression for the first time. His own morphed into something that could’ve been sincere. 

“I’m so sorry. I can see that I’ve upset you, Ms. Teller. That wasn’t my intention. I simply wanted to announce my presence. I’m, uh, sure we’ll talk more in the future.”

Before she had time to respond again, he’d already turned and strode out of the store. Despite the nice words at the end, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Then she shuddered, remembering how disgusting the entire encounter had been. 

She fished her phone out of the pocket in her apron and hit the one number she had left on speed dial. Negan, of course, picked up right away. 

“Sunshine? You okay?”

His voice was tight, and she hurried to soothe him. “Yes, Negan, I’m fine. But I, uh, had a visitor this morning that I think you might wanna know about. That’s all.”

“I’m coming. If they come back, lock yourself in the back and call Shane, okay?”

“Negan, it’s not…”

But before she could finish her sentence, he had already hung up. She smiled in spite of having made him worry. He really was the sweetest man. And now that she knew he’d be roaring up here in a few minutes, her mood was back where it belonged. 

In the meantime, she got back to cleaning. And when he did enter, it was at the start of her lunch rush. Several people turned when he rushed through the door and up to the front of the line. 

“Tell me what happened, Sunshine,” he demanded, ignoring all the customers. 

She smiled and shook her head. “Negan, calm down. I told you it wasn’t like that. I’ll come talk to you once the lunch rush is over, okay?” 

He grimaced slightly, but nodded. She knew he’d never do anything to hurt her business, but he hadn’t been thinking about that when he’d charged inside, clearly. 

“I have some of that roast beef you like,” she told him. “Let me go get you some lunch. Sit down and I’ll bring it over.”

“After everybody else,” he offered. 

Then he leaned forward over the counter that separated them and kissed her forehead before going to sit at the table closest to her. She should’ve known this would be his reaction, regardless of what she said. 

Reagan moved through the lunch rush with ease, even though she was constantly aware of Negan’s eyes on her. When she finished, she made two sandwiches instead of just one, her turkey and avocado and his roast beef and horseradish mayonnaise. She grabbed some bags of her homemade potato chips and a few spicy pickle spears he liked too as she walked to the table. 

She sat everything down, then pulled two sodas out of her apron for them. Root beer for him, cherry Coke for her. When she finally sat, he had already eaten half his sandwich, making her smile again. 

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he mumbled, his mouth still full. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

She laughed quietly. “You never do.”

“Tell me what happened. Please,” he urged, sitting back and focusing on her completely. 

She recounted the event exactly as it had happened, leaving nothing out since she had no idea what was and wasn’t important to him and the club. 

“He wasn’t outwardly rude or anything, but I got, like, a vibe, Negan. It was like he was testing me. Trying to get a rise outta me. He was definitely letting me know whose dick is biggest.”

Negan snorted. “Well, mine is bigger,” he assured her. “But yours isn’t far behind.”

He winked at her and she giggled. “He might just be throwing his weight around to try and scare me. Either way, he’s gonna get run outta town sooner rather than later, and see that I was right. I just don’t want this to be a headache for you. Or the club.”

Negan shook his head. “No trouble for us,” he sighed. “But someone upsets my Sunshine and they get a boot up their ass. You know the rules. And so will he.” 

She beamed at him, despite the promised violence on her behalf. “Thank you, Negan. I appreciate that. Just… be careful.”

“Always.”

He pulled out his wallet and glanced at her, smiling when she raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she cautioned him, her eyes sparkling mischievously. 

“All right, all right,” he relented after a few seconds of a staredown between them. 

She stood, bending down to kiss his cheek, and grabbed both their now empty plates. “Finish your chips. I have to get back to work, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She got to the counter before he called out again. “He comes in again, you call me, right? Even if he just buys a fucking muffin, you hear me? I want to know about it.”

She nodded. “I know the rules too, Negan.”

He chuckled quietly. “Take care, Sunshine.”

She waved him out of the store, cursing this new Beta person. Today would’ve been perfect for broaching the subject of a date, but now it was ruined. And she was starting to see he may be right in holding off. If all it took was a slightly douchey guy coming in her shop to set him off, being in a relationship might prove fatal when the situation didn’t call for it. 

No matter what, she had things to think about when it came to Negan, and now that her shop was empty again, she had plenty of time. 


	7. a place like this

Daryl shuffled from one foot to the other self-consciously as he stood on the plot of land that would hopefully be home to the club’s secret stash of weed, and their new porn studio. Even thinking it felt a bit ridiculous, but after all they’d done over the years––from gun running to pharmaceuticals––this certainly didn’t feel any worse. At least they had that going for them. And half of it was a legitimate business venture, whereas nothing else had ever been. It was a step in the right direction, for sure. 

He stopped moving when he saw a car pull up, even though his nervous jitters hadn’t gone away entirely. It occurred to him, in that moment, that he might have dressed better. The car alone was worth more than anyone in Charming would see in a year or more. The man who stepped out had a bright smile on his face, but he was wearing a suit, and Daryl was just… Daryl. 

His jeans were clean, at least. Sort of. And his kutte covered most of the dirt streaks on his white shirt, although that was streaked with dirt itself, so he wasn’t sure it made that much of a difference. Either way, the man didn’t seem to mind, so Daryl brushed it off. 

“You Daryl Dixon?” the man asked when he was close enough. Daryl nodded and the man held out his hand. “I’m Kurt Unser,” he introduced himself. “It’s very nice to meet you, Daryl.”

Daryl grunted. “Nice to meet you too.”

Kurt gestured at the expanse of space stretching out behind them. “I heard your… organization,” he began diplomatically, “would like to be primary investor in my little project.”

Daryl turned around and looked out at the land again. The foundation had been poured yesterday, but it still wasn’t dry, and it held a secret that Daryl hoped wouldn’t kill this deal. 

“We think it sounds profitable,” Daryl admitted. “As long as it’s done right. We can’t have the girls doing anything illegal on the side because they’re not gettin’ paid enough or something. It all has to be above board or we can’t get into it with you.”

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. That was always the plan. I promise.”

“And we wanna run it,” Daryl added. “Oversee the daily operations, run security. Stuff like that.”

Daryl watched the man closely to see how he might react. It was possible he would never have to know what went on in the basement if they played their cards right. The less he knew, the better. Daryl just hoped he saw it that way too. 

“I have no problem with that,” Kurt agreed. “My plan was always to staff well and just double-check the books myself every once in a while. As long as you’re amenable to that, I think that’s a fine arrangement.”

“Yeah,” Daryl said quickly. “It’s your right as partner to check the books. Completely understand.”

Negan and Rick would have no problem with that either, Daryl knew, since having another set of eyes on the finances wouldn’t be a bad thing. Anything illegal  _ they _ were doing on the side wouldn’t be run through there anyway, outside of money laundering, and there’d be no way to check that anyway with the way they handled things. 

Kurt smiled. “Perfect. And I have someone I want you to meet,” he continued. “Thought I’d show you this whole thing is on the up and up by bringing along my head writer. Nat!” he called, waving to someone in the car Daryl hadn’t noticed before. “I’m ready for you now.”

Daryl tried to peer into the heavily tinted front window as Kurt kept talking, but he couldn’t make out even an outline. 

“Paid her good money to sign on. Snatched her up right off this one show. She’s gonna make this place a goddamn gold mine, I swear. She’s fucking brilliant.” 

Daryl, however, had stopped listening halfway through as a woman stepped out of the car and headed toward them. Most of what Kurt finished with seemed to fly away on the light breeze that was tossing her curly blonde hair around. 

He didn’t know much about dresses, but he knew the tight black one she had on was a fancy brand. She stuck out here worse than anyone else who had come to town. Her heels were a little impractical for the setting too, but she seemed to be managing just fine. 

Daryl’s eyes wandered from the heels up her toned legs until he found her face again. She was squinting in the sunlight beating down on them, but thrust her hand out to him anyway when she was next to both of them. 

“Daryl Dixon, this is Natalie Sutter,” Kurt said. “Natalie, this is Daryl. He’s representing our new investor.”

“I guess you’ll, uh, be workin’ with me mostly,” Daryl mumbled, trying not to blush as he thought of that. “I’ll be the one here. And anybody who runs security.”

She nodded and smiled at him. As he shook her hand back, his eyes were drawn to the full sleeve of tattoos on her right arm and the partial on her left, only minimally obscured by the black sheer sleeves on her dress. 

Kurt’s phone rang and they both dropped their hands as he pulled it out of his pocket to take the call. 

“I have to…” He motioned toward his phone and then between the two of them. “Why don’t you two get acquainted? Be right back.”

He jogged back to the car, phone to his ear, leaving Daryl and Natalie alone. Daryl smiled at her shyly and then diverted his eyes to the dirt at his feet. 

“I’ll, uh, probably have a few scripts for you to read in a week or so,” she offered quietly. “I don’t know how involved you wanna be, or what you know about screenplays, but I love to work collaboratively, and I assume I’m the only writer, so…”

“Never read one,” he admitted. “But I’m game.” 

He looked back up at her and noticed she was smiling sweetly at him. “Thanks. That’d be great. Hopefully you’ll have some walls up soon and we can get started.”

“As long as everything clears, we should have everything up with the building by the end of next week.”

She nodded. “And then it’ll just be up to Kurt to get all the equipment. That’ll be nice. He’s pretty good about that kinda stuff. I didn’t think it’d be that fast, to be honest.”

“Why not?” 

“Eh, people make a lot of promises in Hollywood. Most of them don’t pan out,” she said, shrugging. “It’ll be nice to get settled, though.”

“You gonna live here?” Daryl asked, a little more enthusiastically than he intended. 

“Yep. I took this job because I wanted out of L.A. I don’t wanna be one of those writers who just sends in a script and cashes a check,” she admitted boldly. 

“So you’ve written for porn before?” 

She laughed softly. “No, not porn specifically. I’ve written for a few popular shows and stuff, a documentary here and there. A few movies. I can figure it out, though.” 

“Oh,” Daryl answered lamely. “Uh, anything I woulda heard of?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said quietly. “There’s so many NDAs and shit involved when you work in Hollywood. It’s an ‘I-could-tell-you, but-I’d-have-to-kill-you’ sort of situation. Everyone there thinks the color of their font should be proprietary.”

She rolled her eyes to cement her feelings on the matter, which Daryl found oddly refreshing and endearing. 

“Where’d you go to school?” 

“USC. I have an MFA in screenwriting from there, actually,” she said proudly. 

“Even I know what that means,” Daryl said, smirking. “That’s a pretty prestigious degree.”

“It is,” Natalie agreed smoothly, smirking back. 

Daryl shook his head. He knew what was about to come out of his mouth next, and he knew he might regret it, but he had to ask. 

“Why, uh, do you wanna do this? Not that I’m judgin’ or anything, but it sounds like you could write for anything you wanted. Why, uh…”

“Porn?” she finished for him. He nodded. “Yeah, probably could, but I wanted to live in a small town. I kinda… hate L.A. And I hate sets. At least the closed ones like what they have there, where everyone is famous and everyone else is clamoring to get in. And there’s the fact that you have to be on 24/7. I’m just done with all that.”

“On?” Daryl wondered. 

“Yeah, like, constantly having to be aware of what you say, how you dress when you leave the house, even just to go get groceries. It sucks. I mean, and it’s not like you can date. I used to hang out with celebrities all the time. That’s my dating pool. I don’t wanna date a celebrity,” she said, laughing again. “I know that sounds crazy, but…”

“No. No, it doesn’t. I get it.” Daryl nodded, scuffing his toe in the dirt. “And your answer makes sense. I like it.” 

“Well, uh, if we’re gonna be working together, do you wanna trade numbers?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, a bit too loudly and enthusiastically again. He fumbled to get his phone out of his back pocket fast enough. “And call me if you need help finding a place to stay. Charming’s pretty good, but there are a few pockets I wouldn’t wander into at night and stuff.”

She perked an eyebrow at his admission. “You wouldn’t wander into?”

“Well, ones I wouldn’t want you wandering into.”

She giggled. “Okay, here.”

She held out her hand and he plopped his phone into it. Natalie navigated to his contacts quickly, input her number, and then handed it back without a glance at who else was in his phone. 

“Seriously,” he said, “you need anything. Call me.” 

“Sure, Daryl. Thanks.”

“Nat, you ready?” Kurt interrupted suddenly. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, let’s go find me a house.”

She watched Daryl for a second longer, smiled at him again, and then gave a small wave as she walked back to the car. Daryl knew he shouldn’t, but his eyes followed her all the way back to the car. 

As he sat on his bike, he pulled out a cigarette, just sitting and thinking as they pulled away. He was happy to have found a business like this one, especially if it made all their lives a little bit safer and easier, but he had no idea how he was going to spend his days around Natalie Sutter without getting in trouble in a different way.    
  
That woman was going to be the death of him. 


	8. teeth

It had taken Negan exactly one call to figure out everything he needed to know about this Beta person after he’d left Reagan’s bakery. Even though  _ technically _ he hadn’t done anything to her, and Negan knew she could handle herself, it didn’t justify this idiot’s intrusion on his terrority. It was like Negan was physically incapable of letting it pass without consequence. Not when it came to Reagan. 

Beta’s place wasn’t open yet, of course, but the lease had been signed, so Negan was hoping he’d be here. It would be better if there were no witnesses to what was going to happen next. Granted, Negan had no intention of doing something too stupid, like kill him, but he also knew his anger would get the better of him if this guy popped off. 

Sure enough, as he rode up, he saw the fucker’s shadow through the windows. They were all covered by some kind of brown paper, but Negan could still make out his outline. It also helped that no one else in town was that tall. 

Negan got off his bike, his knife strapped to his leg like always and a gun shoved in the back of his pants. It was hidden by his kutte, and he glanced around as he walked up to the door. He wanted to make sure, at least one more time, that if this giant fucker got in his face, and he was forced to defend himself, he wouldn’t go directly to jail. 

Again, no immediate plans to resort to violence, but if this Beta didn’t promise to lay off Reagan, Negan might have to make a point. 

The door was locked, of course, so Negan rapped on it sharply with his knuckles, biting his lower lip as he attempted to collect himself. He had to try to be diplomatic, at least at first. He’d literally just promised his club that the violence was over. It wouldn’t look great if he walked in here and offed a dude a few days later for looking at his girl wrong. 

Especially when she wasn't even really his girl. 

The door opened slightly, and Negan straightened up to his full height. It annoyed him that Beta still had a few inches on him. It had always been easy for Negan to intimidate people. The ability to loom over people like a henge had that effect. 

“How can I help you, sir?” Beta asked, his voice dripping with that faux positive vibe Reagan had mentioned earlier. “I’m afraid we’re not open yet, but we  _ will _ be soon.”

“That’s what I’m here to talk about,” Negan grunted. 

He pushed past Beta and walked inside, making sure to keep his back to Beta as long as possible so he could get a long, hard look at the back of his kutte. He needed to know exactly who he was messing with. 

“What’s on your mind?” Beta asked, closing the door behind him. 

“You’re going to pack up and leave Charming,” Negan ordered calmly, turning around slowly. “Trust me, I’m doing you a favor. Charming doesn’t react well to chains. You’re just gonna lose money and time, things you could use to set up elsewhere.” 

Beta chuckled. “I take it you’re friends with the lovely Ms. Teller.”

“You stay outta her place and leave her alone,” Negan threatened, gritting his teeth. “Or I’ll come back and kick your ass. I’m tempted to do it now, but at least one warning seems fair, don’t ya think?” 

“More than,” Beta agreed easily. 

He copied Negan’s expression next, even folding his arms tightly across his chest in a way that he was sure was meant to be menacing. 

Negan’s eyes narrowed. Most people didn’t react well to the promise of a beating, and Beta wasn’t blinking an eye. Something was off. 

“Look,” Negan continued. “All I’m saying is that there are several towns nearby that are more… hipster-friendly.”

Beta chuckled again, but it came off as more of a bark, maybe even a borderline growl this time. “How...  _ kind _ of you to suggest, but I don’t like the assumption.”

Negan snorted. “You’re the one with the man bun, Jolly Green. You’re gonna have to deal with that shit too. If you decide to stay in Charming, anyway. Hipster is probably the nicest thing anyone around here’s gonna call you.”

“Jolly Green,” Beta mused. “I like that.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Negan warned him. 

“I’m not leaving,” Beta said, his voice low. “Umm, I’m sorry. I never got your name.”

“It’s Negan,” he snapped. “But the only reason you’d need that is if you were tellin’ everyone the story of how I ran you outta fucking town.”

“Well, as I informed you, Negan, I’m not leaving. I’m going to give this thing a shot,” he answered, motioning to the mostly empty shop. “And I’m sorry if your… friend, Ms. Teller, doesn’t like competition, but she’ll be okay.”

“She doesn’t mind a little competition,” Negan said, letting his hands drop to his hips.

He shook his head, realizing this guy was getting all the wrong ideas. Other than the fact that he was an asshole, this really was about saving everyone some grief. 

“Well, when she loses all her shit, she can come work for me. I won’t, uh, hold it against her,” Beta said, chuckling low. 

Negan took two long strides until they were toe-to-toe. He had to bend his neck slightly, but barely. 

They were evenly matched. 

“What is she? Your girlfriend?” Beta continued, wondering out loud. “Is that why you’re so bent out of shape? I gave her too many fantasies about what it would be like to trade your small dick for my big one?”

Negan smirked. “There’s nothin’ small about  _ my _ dick, asshole, and it’s definitely bigger than yours. I just protect my people, and this town is my people. All of it.”

The last thing he needed was for Beta to think that Reagan was special to him somehow. She didn’t need to get caught up in all this mess because of him. It was the only thing holding him back anymore, and he wasn’t about to let somebody like Beta in on his dirty little secret. 

“I see,” Beta responded coolly. “Well, then tell  _ your _ people to stop by and try our bread on opening day. I imagine they’ll find it vastly superior to Ms. Teller’s… adorable little pastries.”

The corner of Negan’s mouth twitched, but he kept himself in check. He needed to get out of here before he literally tore Beta a new one. 

“You’ll learn the hard way, then,” Negan finally replied harshly, backing up. “You’ll see.” 

“I can’t wait,” Beta replied eagerly. 

He went back to the door without another word, holding it open for Negan, and sweeping his arm through the air to usher him out. “Thank you  _ so _ much for the warning, Negan.”

“Good fucking luck, asshole,” Negan grumbled, striding back out to his bike quickly. 

As he kicked it to life, he glowered at the empty shop window. Beta was just as stubborn as Negan had imagined, but he wasn’t going to let it go either. He’d bring this to the attention of the rest of the club as soon as possible. They needed to be on the lookout. There was something off about that dude, and he was going to have to keep an even closer eye on Reagan too. 

He didn’t trust Beta to stay away. 


	9. never really lost

“Flowers in the back. Flowers in the back,” Jesus chanted to himself as he changed Gracie’s tiny diaper. 

He beamed proudly as he did the tabs like Aaron had shown him a dozen or so times and then picked her up, careful to cradle her head. Unfortunately, as soon as she was no longer laying on said diaper, it slid right off her and landed on the changing table with a plop. 

“Dammit,” he muttered. 

He sighed heavily, shook his head, and decided now was as good a time as any to give up. 

“Aaron?” he called. “I need help.”

“Coming!” 

He heard Aaron jogging down the short hallway before he stuck his head in the door. When he saw Jesus holding Gracie and the diaper laying flat on the table, he chuckled low. 

“What happened in here?”

“I don’t know,” Jesus admitted sheepishly. “I thought I did it right.”

He was trying desperately not to get frustrated, mainly so Aaron didn’t mistake any of his attitude for frustration with him or their relationship, but it was getting harder to hold it in. He was starting to think he’d never, ever get the hang of it. 

Aaron walked over slowly and kissed his temple. “Give her to me,” he instructed, holding out his hands. “Go to the kitchen and make sure nothing burns until I get back.”

“You’re trusting me with that?” Jesus muttered as he walked away slowly. 

He put his hands in his pockets, stopping at the door for a second before moving on. Aaron was such a natural at all this and it was starting to hurt his feelings a little bit. It was hard for Jesus to feel this inadequate and useless. 

He could hear Aaron cooing at Gracie, calling her all the adorable little pet names he could think of as Jesus finally made it into the kitchen. He glanced around, forcing himself to regain his bearings. He was just as bad in here as he was with the baby, so this was hardly an improvement, but burning food was nothing like ruining a baby, so he’d deal with it.

The eggs were still in the pan and they weren’t done yet. He walked over to them first, poking them with the spatula nearby. The flame had been turned down between low and medium, so he didn’t need to worry about them just yet. 

Then he focused on the sizzling bacon, and it needed to be turned. He noticed the tongs on the counter next and clumsily did it, getting grease all over the stovetop and on his shirt in the process. 

Finally, he checked the oven. There were biscuits baking, but they were still pretty pale, so he knew he could let them be. 

Thankfully. 

He knew how to set the table, at least, so he busied himself doing that. As he put the last fork down, he eyed Gracie’s bottle suspiciously, deciding ultimately not to chance it. A scalding bottle wouldn’t help his confidence, even if Aaron caught his mistake in time. 

And he’d never forgive himself for hurting the most beautiful and innocent little girl ever. Even if it wasn’t intentional. 

His life had changed so much in the past few weeks, he didn’t even recognize it anymore. It was hard enough being gay in a small town like Charming, but he’d also had to go be in a motorcycle club. Granted, the one he’d magically found couldn’t care less. He’d been surprised at how accepting everyone had been of his truth, even though initially, he’d thought they were going to kill him over it. 

Then he’d managed to find his soulmate. 

Aaron had come along shortly after he’d shown up from another charter of their club. He was tired of some nameless big city and wanted a small town to live in where he could grow old and ride motorcycles. 

Little did either of them know, they were destined for each other, even though they were each other’s opposites. Jesus was rough around the edges, very determined to be alone, and Aaron was a candlelight, homemade meals, and flowers type of guy. A family man through and through. 

Jesus had made peace with that when he knew there was no way he’d ever get Aaron out of his head, but he never thought they’d get to this point so fast. They were barely out, much less out and together, and now they were in their own place, trying not to burn eggs and raising a baby together. 

Aaron came in the room as Jesus watched the eggs carefully, a successfully diapered Gracie sitting on his hip. 

“Can you take her for me? I don’t want her around the bacon grease.”

Jesus nodded, his brow furrowed seriously as he backed up and let Aaron finish breakfast. He propped Gracie on his hip like he’d just seen Aaron do and stared down at her for a second. 

“What’d I do wrong?” he wondered out loud after a quiet second. 

“You just didn’t put the tabs on tight enough, that’s all,” Aaron explained, shrugging. 

“Oh,” Jesus murmured. “I thought they would hurt her if they were too tight.”

“You’ll get the hang of it, babe,” Aaron assured him. “It’s all right.”

He gave Jesus a sweet smile and turned off the stove, gathering up all the finished parts of their meal separately, and then began to put everything the appropriate bowls and dishes. He motioned for Jesus to sit down at his seat at the table as he divvied up their portions too. 

“Sit down and eat before it gets cold,” Aaron urged when he noticed Jesus wasn't moving. 

“You should eat first,” Jesus stated as Aaron went to heat up Gracie’s bottle next. “You’re the one doing all the work.”

Aaron chuckled and shook his head. “Not everything. And you’re doing just fine, Jesus. I’m used to this. I had a younger brother, remember? I took care of him all the time. You didn’t have any siblings. You literally have no reason to know all this stuff. Just eat, please, babe.”

Jesus huffed, probably more dramatically than necessary, and went to sit in his seat finally. He made sure not to jostle Gracie, still resting peacefully in his arms. She wasn’t asleep, but she was staring at him quietly, seemingly content to take in her surroundings. 

“I just… don’t get it,” Jesus confessed. “How can I take out, like, five guys with guns without firing a shot and lay my bike down to slide it without getting hurt, but I can’t change a damn diaper?”

Aaron smiled at him, pulling the bottle out of the microwave and walking over to them both. “Entirely different skill sets, Jesus. I can cook, I can organize the MC’s files, but I can’t put my bike down like that. Not unless I wanna get fitted for a prosthetic arm, I guess.” He shrugged again. “We all have our talents.”

“So, what’s my role, then?” Jesus asked, picking up a biscuit and taking a bite. “I’m, like, what? The Dad and you’re the Mom? I go out and make the money and you take care of the kid and the house?”

Aaron gave him a withering look as he sat down across from him. Jesus knew he was being ridiculous. They were both in this together, and Aaron was right, but he was in need of some reassurance. He had to know he was important too. Otherwise, what was even the point? 

“Biscuits are good,” he complimented. 

Aaron smirked. “Not as good as Reagan’s, though, right? But I still bake ‘em. You don’t have to be the best at it, Jesus. You just have to try.” He paused to let his words sink in. “That is, if you still want to, ya know, do this with me.” 

He had added it quietly, placing Gracie’s bottle between them on the table after testing it quickly on his wrist. 

“Of course I do,” Jesus answered without hesitation, surprising even himself. 

He knew why Aaron would go there, but now he was slightly ashamed that his pouting had led Aaron to believe he didn’t want this. That was unacceptable. The relief that washed over Aaron next made Jesus tear up slightly. 

“Look,” he started again softly. “I’m sorry. I know this has been hard for me. We’d barely gotten started, and now we have a baby. But I don’t resent you for that. I watched my parents go through that. I never want you to think that’s even a possibility. I mean, when we agreed to be her godfathers, we had no idea we’d have to step into this role so soon, or ever, really. We were going to protect Gabe and Rosie, and then we didn’t. Or I didn’t. Her being an orphan is my fault, and when I see how bad I am at all this stuff, it just feels like I failed her again. It’s… hard for me.”

Images of Gabe and Rosita’s dead bodies piled against the door baby Gracie had been crying behind flashed through his mind next and he slammed his eyes shut to try and keep them at bay. 

“If you had been there that night, you’d be dead too,” Aaron reminded him, reading his mind like he always did. “And that wouldn’t be helping anyone.”

Jesus’ eyes opened slowly again and he looked down at Gracie’s sweet face and then to Aaron. He was right. He knew he was right. He couldn’t wallow in his guilt forever, and the longer he kept this up, the worse it was going to be for all three of them. 

He wasn’t going to run away, and yes, it was moving too fast, but it didn’t matter now. This was life, and their life was pretty damn good. He was just going to have to accept that this was it for him and he got to spend more time being with the person he loved and be okay with the timeline of everything. 

As Aaron took another bite, he held out his hands again for Gracie. “Let me feed her.”

Jesus shook his head and held out his free hand in return. “Nah, I wanna do it.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I want to try.”

“Thanks,” Aaron responded, matching his volume. 

He handed over the bottle and then picked up his fork again, taking another big bite. Aaron propped her up slightly, knowing that would keep her from eating too fast. Even though she hadn’t been crying, she started to eat the instant the bottle touched her lips, making them both laugh. 

After a few quiet moments, Jesus held the bottle with his chin and then picked up his fork too. Aaron chuckled and shook his head as he watched Jesus maneuver his food around Gracie, careful not to drop any on her as she ate her breakfast too. 

“You’re a dork,” Aaron said, winking at him. “You’re better at this than you think. That’s, like, a pro parent move right there.”

“Right, though?” 

They both chuckled and then went back to eating, giving Jesus time to think through his day, happy that at the end of it, he’d get to come back to his two favorite people. 


	10. if by chance

Natalie stepped through the door of the bakery, smiling as she saw the name ‘Rollin’ in the Dough’ there in gorgeous white hand-painted letters. The bell jingled as she made her way inside, everything about this quaint little shop making her instantly feel at home. And the smell of freshly baked bread certainly wasn’t hurting the overall vibe. 

Even though the sun was barely peeking over the nearby buildings, it was clear this particular restaurant had already been up and running for hours. It was usually like that for bakeries, and was one of the many reasons she loved them so much. It made it even better that this wasn’t a chain. 

The woman behind the counter cheerily welcomed her without even looking up. “Hi! What can I get for ya?”

Her deep auburn hair was stunning and matched her glossy make-up in the best way. Her jeans, t-shirt, and apron were covered in flour, but she carried herself like she didn’t mind, and also like she might belong in a different decade entirely. Coupled with her smile, which was so big that on anyone else it would’ve looked fake, she might’ve made the perfect ‘50s housewife. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Natalie answered truthfully. “Daryl told me this was the best place in town to eat, and everything is good, but that doesn’t exactly help me choose.”

At the mention of Daryl’s name, the woman’s head shot up and her expression changed slightly. Natalie knew that look well, too. She was being scrutinized. Time would tell what it all meant, though. Either way, she was used to women not being too fond of her, so it wouldn’t necessarily hurt her feelings or anything. 

“You know Daryl?” the woman asked. 

“Yeah,” Natalie nodded. “We’re gonna be working together at Cara Cara. I’m the, uh, writer. Natalie Sutter.” 

She held out her hand to introduce herself, switching her laptop to under her other arm to make it less awkward. Natalie was determined to put her best foot forward, even if it didn’t work out. Daryl had talked about this place with such reverence, so she knew where it stood in their hierarchy. 

It was protected. 

“Reagan Teller,” she said back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I know the guys are lookin’ forward to Cara Cara opening,” she smirked. “Though some for less… moral reasons than others.”

Natalie snorted her laugh. “I’m sure. I, uh, like the name,” she said, complimenting Reagan, gesturing to the door she’d just walked through. “I support any and all puns.”

“Thank you,” Reagan beamed. “I thought about something more serious at first, but I wanted people to laugh when they walk by, even if they don’t come in. That way they might still get cheered up a bit.”

As she spoke, Natalie could tell this kind of sentiment was something she was probably famous for around Charming. And it was also the kind that would normally cause Natalie to gag. She was definitely too angsty to hang out with someone like Reagan for too long under any other circumstances, but it was much more refreshing than she was used to, shockingly. She could tell Reagan meant every single word.

“Daryl said you were the most cheerful person he knew,” Natalie admitted, “but I wasn’t sure whether or not I believed him. Now I know.”

She made sure to put on a face that hopefully told Reagan that was supposed to be taken in a good way, not in a way that said she was being judged for it. 

Thankfully, Reagan blushed. “I try to be,” she admitted softly and glanced at her menu board. “Well, why don’t you tell me a little bit about what you like? I can help you pick something. It’s kinda my superpower,” she lightly bragged. 

There was something more behind her answer, but Natalie didn’t push. Against all the odds, she found Reagan both intimidating and oddly likeable. She didn’t want to ruin anything, especially with her or the club, by being pushy. She knew she had a tendency to ask prying questions strictly out of curiosity. 

“Sure,” Natalie finally agreed. “I could honestly eat my weight in bread everyday and be happy, so…”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Reagan laughed easily. “Are you a sweet or savory breakfast person?”

“Savory, definitely,” Natalie replied. “The saltier the better. I can’t do sugar this early in the morning, unless it’s in my coffee.”

“Gotcha. I’d probably recommend the breakfast sandwich, then,” Reagan said after a second or two of contemplation. “Fully customizable depending on what I have each day. I think the best sandwich bread is the hearty white. Nice and thick. Eggs, cheese, bacon or sausage… if you want. Any veggies you’d like too.”

At the mention of vegetables, Natalie wrinkled her nose and Reagan giggled. “I’ll just take egg and cheese on that bread you mentioned. Extra cheese, please? And maybe toasted with butter.”

“Coming right up,” Reagan promised. “Have a seat anywhere, if you’re stayin’. There’s free Wi-Fi if you wanna write or anything like that. Just try to keep the screen hidden if you’re watching something you wouldn’t want your grandma to see.”

Natalie couldn’t help but cackle at that one as she nodded her agreement and went to sit down. “Thanks. And my screen has a, uh, protector thing on it. You can’t see anything unless you’re looking directly at it, but I totally get it. I promise not to watch porn in here.”

“Thank you.” Reagan winked. “And coffee, I presume?”

“Yes, please. Biggest one you got,” Natalie joked, taking a seat in a nearby booth. 

She started to unpack the minute she sat down, looking out the window and noticing she had a perfect view of the picturesque little town from where she found herself. If she played her cards right, she might have the best seat in town, and certainly the best one for writing. 

Reagan went right to work fixing up breakfast for Natalie, and she tried not to stare. It was hard, though. There was something mesmerizing about watching her in the kitchen. She could totally see why Daryl talked about her the way she did, and it also made her wonder if there was more going on there. It would make complete sense, not that she really looked like she belonged in that world, but she could skate that line, probably. 

“I’m, uh, looking for a regular place to write,” Natalie finally admitted. “I mean, I could write in the studio when it’s finished next week, but all that background, umm, noise would be kinda strange. And home is nice, but I have to make my own food there, or get it delivered, and something tells me Charming doesn’t have a lot of that.”

Reagan smiled as she brought over Natalie’s food, scooting out from behind the counter, carefully balancing the plate in one hand and coffee in the other. 

“Not really,” she admitted. “Town’s way too small for that. You can pretty much walk everywhere. But you’re welcome to write here. It only gets busy for like an hour in the morning around breakfast and then again at lunch. It’s steady but quiet otherwise. And I can always supply you with all the bread you want,” she tacked on. 

“A definite perk,” Natalie chuckled. 

Reagan put Natalie’s order on the table and she quickly scooted her laptop to the side, happy to fully focus on the food. Even just on the plate, like everything in the glass case by the counter, it looked too good to eat. 

“Mind if I sit down?” Reagan asked suddenly, doing so without waiting for Natalie’s answer. 

It was a solid power move and Natalie was already in love. She nodded anyway, taking a bite of her sandwich. 

“Oh my God,” she groaned loudly. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks.” Reagan beamed. “So, listen, I’m sorry.”

Natalie’s eyebrows furrowed, thoroughly confused by where this conversation was going now. She had absolutely nothing to apologize for, so Natalie was lost. 

“I know I’m a little chipper and it probably freaked you out,” she continued. “I kinda forget people who aren’t from here don’t know what happened, so they probably think I’m weird, and that’s the last thing I’d want with you. There’s not a lot of women associated with the club to talk to, so I can’t really afford to alienate people.”

Natalie smiled as she talked, self-consciously tucking her hair behind her ear on one side and then playing with the ends on the other. She had been intimidated by this kind-hearted, gentle soul and it was suddenly clear she just wasn’t used to talking to other women. They were more the same than they were different. 

“You’re fine,” Natalie said. “I get it. And you don’t have to apologize. If that’s how you, uh, cope, that’s how you cope. You don’t owe anyone an explanation, okay? Least of all me.”

“I know,” she said unconvincingly. “It’s just…”

“Listen, I just spent two years in a town where I could literally trust no one,” Natalie admitted. “Everyone was so fucking fake. It made me sick. It’s nice to be here, seriously. I already love it. And this place,” she said, motioning to the restaurant, “is super cute and so good. If anything, you’re gonna be sick of me.”

Reagan chuckled. “Doubtful. But thanks. Again. It means a lot.”

“Quick question, though, do you always get so personal so fast?” Natalie asked seriously. 

She hadn’t meant to turn on a dime like that, but she needed to know. Natalie wasn’t one to let her guard down, no matter how precious Charming was or the people in it. She couldn’t afford to get hurt like that again. She was here to do a job. End of story. 

Sharing too many details had always been risky. 

“Actually, no,” Reagan admitted. “It’s usually the opposite. But you’re working with us, so that means you’re family.”

“Us?” Natalie repeated curiously. “You mean the club, right?”

Reagan nodded. 

“You’re not… in, though, right? Woman can’t join was the impression I got.”

“Oh, they can’t, Reagan confirmed. “My dad and brother were members.”

“Were?” Natalie wondered. 

She made her voice as soft and gentle as possible. She was pretty sure she knew the answer before she asked the question. 

“They, uh, both died,” Reagan said, just as soft, swallowing hard. 

“Ah, so that’s why you do the chipper thing.”

“Pretty much. Gotta stay positive or I’m gonna spiral, ya know?”

It was Natalie’s turn to nod. “Yes, I do. I really do.”

That was as close to the truth as Natalie was prepared to get at the moment, even if this was rare for Reagan. It didn’t change as much for her as she wished it did. She didn’t actually enjoy being this closed off from people, but it was a self-preservation thing and a mode she’d been in for longer than she could remember now. Reagan simply smiled, though, not pressing for more answers Natalie wasn’t going to be able to give her. 

“Want a refill or anything else to eat? Breakfast rush is about to hit,” Reagan said after a few moments of companionable silence. 

Natalie nodded. “Refill, please. Then I’ll get to work.”

Reagan grabbed her cup as she headed back to the counter. When she returned it, full and piping hot again, she added, “Let me know when you get hungry again, okay?”

“Yep,” Natalie promised. “Thanks, Reagan.”

Reagan paused before nodding and going back to the counter as the first set of people started through the door. She looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t or shouldn’t. Either way, Natalie knew she wasn’t going to figure it out today. She was too busy and there were far too many people streaming in and out of here. But it made for an excellent work environment. It wasn’t long before she had drowned it all out and she was zoned into the words on the page flowing out of her freely. 

Besides, if she had any hope of staying in Charming and hanging out in the world’s most adorable bakery, she had to do her job. 


	11. sweet dreams

Natalie tapped away at her keyboard, her music blaring in her headphones as she worked to block out all the construction noise currently happening at Cara Cara. The walls were up, and a few sets, but they weren’t finished just yet. She’d been on a roll for the past few days, though, and she wanted to finish a good number of scripts before they officially opened and her rewrite schedule became even more hectic. 

As she typed ‘The End’ to yet another story, she caught a big whiff of the glorious smell of coffee and baked goods. Without even looking up, she knew it was Reagan’s food, which caused her to look up from her computer for the first time in a few hours. 

Reagan’s shop was making her doubly glad she didn’t live in L.A. anymore because here it was totally allowable to gain some weight. Maybe even expected since it was all so delicious. In Charming, healthy was in, and healthy was subjective to your body type. Natalie had never been happier to be around others that saw that as well, instead of being told attempting the stick figure facade, when that wasn’t your genetic predisposition, was a good idea. 

She expected to see the infamous Reagan, her fast and furious friend, but was pleasantly surprised when it was Daryl that appeared instead. He instantly blushed when she noticed and smiled at him, which she found incredibly endearing. Apparently, no matter how tough you looked or seemed, having a crush was a universal language. And Natalie knew Daryl had a crush on her. 

He wasn’t very good at hiding it. 

Granted, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it either way. Sure, he was a good guy, and that was more than she’d had recently, but she was almost positive she wasn’t ready to let anyone in like that. She knew he would assume it had something to do with his affiliation to the club, but honestly, that was one of the things she liked the most. He was loyal and kind and incredibly sweet. It also helped that she knew, should the need arise, he could take care of her, and himself. She hated it about herself sometimes, but the Alpha Male thing really worked. 

And with Daryl Dixon it absolutely did. 

“How’s writin’ going?” he mumbled, putting a giant coffee and a bag stuffed with treats in front of her. “Reagan said to bring this to ya. There’s an egg sandwich, I think, in there, made just how you like it, and some of your other favorites, she said.” 

Natalie grinned appreciatively. “She’s so amazing. How is she not married already? Wait, can _I_ marry her? Would people freak out about lesbians here?”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “They don’t seem to mind Aaron and Jesus, but I think Negan might have a problem with it.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, perking an eyebrow. “Is there a story there?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Not really.”

“And that’s the problem,” she guessed. 

“Depends on who you ask.”

Natalie wasted no more time as she dug into the bag and took a big swig of her coffee, pulling each treat out and moaning as she saw each one. The care that had gone into an otherwise simple gesture melted her cold, dead heart in the best way. Reagan really was too good for her, but Natalie was happy she was willing to see past that to be friends with her. It made the upcoming night out they had planned with Michonne that much more exciting. It’d been forever since she’d been out with women who weren’t trying to stab her in the back. The whole thing was oddly refreshing. 

“Care to join me?” she asked, pointing to the chair nearby. 

He was clutching his own brown paper sack from Reagan’s and his coffee, so clearly he was planning to eat. Even if she had no idea what to do about Daryl, they could eat breakfast near one another. There was certainly no harm in that. 

Daryl, however, seemed to think the opposite as he hovered nearby, rocking back and forth on each foot. 

“Daryl, relax. I’m not gonna bite your head off. I promise,” she offered, pointing to the seat again. “I wanted to ask you some questions about the MC anyway, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess. I can’t, uh, tell you everything,” he said, stumbling over his words. 

“Yeah, I know. I was just curious to see if I was allowed to write a few storylines about motorcycle clubs in them? Or if I needed to just steer clear?” 

“Why?” Daryl scoffed. “Nobody wants to watch that.”

Natalie snorted his laughter. “You would be surprised. Everybody loves a dangerous bad boy, Daryl.”

“Y–you?” 

She watched him closely as she sat down finally and scooted the chair until he was sitting directly in front of her. Natalie had no idea what he was actually asking, but she figured answering truthfully wouldn’t hurt anything. 

“Yeah, I like that too. Sometimes.” 

He nodded and then opened his own bag, pulling out a few bagels and cream cheese too. “I guess. If you want. I mean, everyone did go crazy over that one show a few years back. Makes sense.”

“You probably hated it, huh?” 

“Nah,” he answered after a few quiet seconds. “Just… a little violent for me. That’s all.”

“Well, people tend to assume MCs are just inherently violent. Is that, uh, the case with you guys?”

“Most MCs started with the need to hang out and ride. It wasn’t about all that shit,” he said, taking a large bite. “It’s turned into somethin’... ugly. That show didn’t help, ya know?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I got outvoted _a lot_. Like a whole helluva lot, actually.” 

Daryl coughed, choking slightly on his bagel, before somewhat regaining his composure enough to speak. “You––you wrote for that show?”

She nodded. “Yeah, for the first two seasons. I swear, I’m not an idiot about MCs,” she corrected quickly. “But Hollywood wants flashy, not realistic.”

He chuckled. “I can see that. But it was still kinda fun,” he offered. “I mean, we sat around and watched it every week, so that’s somethin’, huh?”

“You guys watched it?” she asked, grinning wide. “Really? Popped popcorn and huddled around the TV in the clubhouse?”

“Actually, yeah,” he said, smiling back. “It was fun. The parts that weren’t too graphic, but can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why did we have to see that one guy’s ass all the time?”

Natalie snorted her laughter, almost spitting out her coffee. “Hollywood,” she said simply. “And outvoted, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure. Don’t lie. You liked it.”

“Does he have a nice ass? Sure. It’s okay, but, like, the sex got a little… gratuitous.”

“And now you write for porn, so it’s all come full circle,” he teased. “And you got some of it right, at least.”

She smirked. “Apparently, I got too much of it right.”

“Whaddya mean?” 

“We had a consultant that also had a role and he said it scared him how much I knew without being in a club myself,” she said quietly. 

The smile Daryl gave at that comment was much more guarded, which was what she was afraid of in the first place. He had probably already guessed how perceptive she was, but that confirmed his worst fears about her. They were trying to branch out with Cara Cara, but if they had a rat or a mole, they were never going to get it off the ground. Of course, only time would show Daryl she was who she said she was, but it was going to suck to have the people she was around all day be so guarded with her for a bit too. 

“Outta curiosity,” Daryl started up again, surprising her, “do you write the actual sex scenes?”

“Oh, uh, kinda. If it’s important to the storyline in some way, yes. Otherwise, no. I leave it up to the actors. Screenplays are actually pretty bare, beside the dialogue. Directors don’t like it very much when you step on their toes. And I can’t imagine those that work in porn are much better. Probably care less, to be honest. Don’t know why I’m trying so hard.”

She ended it with a shrug, but it was a real concern of hers. She wanted to be out of L.A., and this had been the fastest way, but she would only know a few years from now if it had been worth it. She loved her job, she loved to write, but if it didn’t matter, she wasn’t going to be able to stomach that for very long either. 

She desperately didn’t want that to be the case in someplace as wonderful as Charming. She could see herself putting down roots here. 

“Just ‘cause it’s porn doesn’t mean they shouldn’t care,” Daryl said firmly. “And you let me know if anyone gives you shit, okay? We’re trying to do something… legit here. We ain’t got time for all that.”

“I think it’s a great idea, honestly. It creates jobs, it’s unobtrusive, and it’s _always_ in demand,” she said. “And the weed thing is a bonus, I’m guessing.”

Daryl’s face fell as soon as the words left her mouth and she instantly regretted them. She reached across the table and put her hand over the top of his.

“I’m sorry. I was just joking. I swear, I don’t care or anything.”

“It’s medicinal,” he said. “And this isn’t just a front.” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I know the rules, Daryl.”

The smile came back slowly and she breathed an internal sigh of relief. He seemed to trust her to some degree, so that was something. But she always wanted to make it clear she wasn’t scared of him, or anyone in the clubhouse. That would create its own set of problems. 

“And I can take care of myself with these directors,” she continued. “But I appreciate it.”

“Oh, I can tell,” he said, winking at her. 

She bit her lip to keep from grinning wide at the comment. Something told her that Daryl wasn’t usually so bold in his flirting. It made her feel both very special and very nervous. 

“Who, uh, told you about the porn business?” she asked, trying to change the subject. 

She pulled her hand back too, not needing the physical connection to add to the growing list of questions she had about her attraction to this man. 

“Shane told me about it. He’s the Police Chief.” He swallowed hard. “And my, uh, brother-in-law.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow again. “Well, that’s… interesting. A relationship worthy of a whole show by itself, I think.”

Daryl chuckled low, the noise resonating from somewhere deep in his chest. “Good thing your show’s over, then.”

“You never know. Fans love prequels, sequels. Oh, even side stories and spin-offs. They kill for that shit. Who would we get to play you, though?” she wondered idly.

Daryl snorted. “I don’t know. I’m not sure you got an actor ugly enough to play me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are not ugly, Daryl,” she insisted. “I’ll just ask Reagan. We’ll fancast the whole thing at Girls’ Night.”

“Good luck. She watches, like, cooking shows and house shows. She’d rather play video games.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t have pegged her for that.”

He nodded and finished off his second bagel before standing up and wiping his hands on his faded denim. 

“Well, I should, uh, let you get back to writing. I gotta walk some of the guys around and show ‘em what needs to be done.”

“Of course. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Sure. Sure.” He threw his bag away in the trash can nearby and then walked back. “You, uh, still have my number if you need me, uh, right?”

She nodded. “Yep.” 

He smiled again, back to his shy demeanor once more, with his hands in his pockets. He gave her a little nod and then turned to walk away. She couldn’t help but watch him go, appreciating the way his jeans hung low on his hips. 

She had to shake her head to keep from staring, afraid he might turn around and catch her gawking. She knew she’d never do anything more than look at Daryl. She’d been burned too many times in the past to consider a relationship again, at least right now. And she knew from experience that sleeping with someone you worked with was the worst idea. 

Still, it was nice to imagine. Maybe put in a script or three. It was what she did for a living, after all. 


	12. burning

“You guys really aren’t drinking with me?” Michonne asked, poking her bottom lip out slightly. “I mean, look at all this…” 

She pointed to the three gin and tonics in front of her. Three drinks really wasn’t that many, but she had bought them thinking Natalie and Reagan were going to be joining her. 

Natalie was the first to offer an explanation for her sobriety. “I did my fair share of drinking in L.A. for the past decade, dude. My liver and kidneys are very happy that I’ve been completely sober for the past two months. I know it’s not a long time, but I write so much better when I can actually see the screen.” 

Reagan and Michonne laughed quietly and shook their heads. “I mean,” Natalie continued. “Don’t get me wrong. Being sober is terrifying, but preferable for my job.” 

“And I have to be in the bakery in, like, five hours,” Reagan reminded her. “I cannot afford to be hungover in there. I would end up just eating all the bread. What would even be left?” She reached over and hugged Michonne. “But you have as much fun as you want, girl. We will make sure you get home. You deserve a break.”

“Please,” Michonne scoffed, waving her hand in the air. “I have two great kids and the easiest husband in the world. I don’t do that much.”

“You deal with all those dumb boys every day,” Natalie retorted. “You take care of literally everything, from what I’ve seen. You deserve a night out, lady. And we need to do this more often.”

“Oh my God, yes,” Reagan agreed quickly. “How about once a week, starting right now? We just go do something. Go out to dinner, see a movie, go dancing, whatever.”

“Deal,” Michonne said, raising a glass. 

“Definitely,” Natalie echoed, raising her own glass of club soda. “I’m totally down.”

All of three of them clinked their glasses together, giggling as the waiter stopped by with their burgers, fries, and more of what Michonne had ordered from the bar for the whole table. 

“So, I gotta ask,” Michonne started, turning to Natalie, “what’s it like writing for porn?”

The other woman couldn’t help but smirk, especially when she noticed the way Reagan seemed just as interested in her answer. She wasn’t what Natalie would call a prude, by any means, but not someone she could see watching what Natalie wrote either. 

Not here, anyway. 

Natalie shrugged. “It’s kinda fun. I mean, it’s just like any other job,” she explained. “You get to know the genre and you watch or read as much as you can and then do your best to put your own spin on it.” 

“Oh, I bet you put a spin on it,” Michonne teased, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh, hush,” Natalie mumbled. “You know you love it.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I’ve totally watched porn,” Michonne said. “But it just seems weird to think someone actually writes that stuff.”

“Oh my God, right?” Natalie commented. “It seems so stupid. Like, come on, pizza delivery man comes to the house and the next scene everyone’s naked? What is that?” 

“It sets an unrealistic expectation,” Reagan interjected between bites. “I mean, I love you, you know that,” she said quickly to Natalie, “but yeah, I feel like guys think that kinda stuff is just expected when they see that enough. Ya know?”

“Totally,” Natalie said. “I get it. I bet you’re just glad Negan isn’t like that, huh?”

Michonne laughed uproariously while Reagan almost choked on a fry when Natalie mentioned Negan right alongside porn like that. She reached over and patted Reagan on the back as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Exactly the reaction I was looking for,” Natalie said triumphantly. “Daryl kept his mouth shut about it, but I guessed enough.”

“Enough?” Reagan squeaked. “There’s nothing to guess.”

“Yeah, right,” Michonne basically shouted, turning to Natalie now. “Oh my God, girl. I’ve wanted someone to talk about this with for forever. I’m so glad you’re here and you’re so good at guessing shit.” 

“Huh?” Natalie asked lamely. 

“Daryl told us that you keep getting a little close to finding out all our dirty secrets,” Michonne said, much more serious than before. “But he also said he trusts you not to go blab, which is high praise from Daryl.”

“The highest,” Reagan offered. 

“Don’t think we’re off you and your eye-fucking,” Michonne said, turning back to Reagan. “If you could get pregnant from that shit, you’d have twelve babies by now.”

“You––you think I eye-fuck Negan?” she hissed, trying to remain quiet. 

Both Natalie and Michonne rolled their eyes at her question due to how obvious it was to everyone but Reagan. 

“Yes,” Michonne said, nodding. “And he eye-fucks you right back.”

Reagan blushed quickly and put her head down, suddenly super interested in her food. “You should go for it,” Natalie insisted. “He’s single, right?”

“Perpetually,” Michonne enunciated, “because he’s got it so bad for her.”

“So why doesn’t he make a move?” Natalie wondered, effectively leaving Reagan out of the conversation entirely now. “He’s a big boy, isn't he? Or is there some rule?” 

“Big baby is more like it,” Michonne snorted. “He won’t let himself go there. He’s afraid he’s going to ruin her life or something because of what he does.”

Natalie knew Michonne was referring to the fact that Reagan’s whole family was gone, more than half due to some violence related to the club. And it was sweet to think that Negan was looking out for her, but even Natalie had to admit that was a bullshit reason without knowing all the facts. 

“Damn,” Natalie muttered. “That means he’s, like, totally worth it, huh?”

Michonne nodded sagely as Reagan slammed her hand on the table and whined, “You guys know I can hear you, right?”

Natalie and Michonne giggled at her outburst, then the waiter came back and switched out some of Michonne’s empty drinks for fresh ones. 

Michonne eyed Reagan critically as soon as he left again. “Look, if you’d moved on and were just even dating someone else, I wouldn’t say a word. But you’re holding a candle for him so hard. If you’re not gonna give up, something’s gotta happen. That’s all we’re saying.”

“I don't like that you two are ganging up on me,” Reagan complained quietly. 

“We love you,” Natalie offered. “That’s all. And he’s hot.”

Michonne turned her sights on Natalie at that comment, smirking again. “Oh, really now? But I’m guessing you don’t think he’s as hot as Daryl, huh?”

Natalie narrowed her eyes slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We were ganging up on Reagan,” Natalie said, pointing to the other woman again. 

“I knew it!” 

They all laughed easily again as Natalie kept the rest of her opinions on the topic of Reagan and Negan to herself, even if she had many more. She knew she wasn’t exactly qualified to offer advice on relationships. She could just tell that they’d made an amazing couple, and the only people they were hurting currently were themselves. They were both alone right now, and there was no reason for that. They deserved each other. 

Both Reagan and Michonne had grown quiet while Natalie thought, and when she noticed, she became instantly uncomfortable. She didn’t like giving herself a chance to get into her head too far. It led down deep, dark, and twisty paths that she had no desire to end up on, which was why she hopped right up and pulled them both with her. 

“Come on, ladies. No more pity parties,” she announced. “Let’s dance!” 

The minute they made it to the designated portion of the restaurant built for dancing, an energetic fast song started to play and they all three worked on forgetting about their talk and just tried to relax instead. 

It seemed to be working until a very tall, slightly sleazy-looking man interrupted them. Reagan clearly recognized him as she was the first to tense up at the sight of him. 

“Ms. Teller,” he yelled over the loud music, a smile on his face. “How nice to see you here. How is your… quaint little shop doing?”

Reagan bristled and Natalie found herself ready to put up an actual fight, but Michonne grabbed her and pulled her to her side, about to do the same with Reagan when he stood between them. 

“I’m not talking to you right now, Beta,” Reagan said frostily. “I’m out with my friends.”

“Get lost, ya big bitch,” Michonne yelled back loudly, finally succeeding in pulling Reagan over to their side. 

Natalie, in turn, bit back a smile. Sure, Michonne was a little drunk, but she could already tell that wouldn’t have changed her reaction. The thing that disturbed Natalie most of all was that Reagan clearly knew this guy and she did not like him at all. Reagan was the last person who anyone would expect to feel that way about someone, so something was off. The fact that he mentioned her bakery too wasn't helping her impression of him either. 

“Still afraid of a little friendly competition, I see,” he replied amiably, chuckling low. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Reagan retorted easily. “And I don’t mind competition, as long as it isn’t unscrupulous.”

The man straightened up to his full height at her comment, making him that much more overwhelming. Natalie could tell that was his point, too. He was used to being intimidating. 

“Get gone, Lurch,” Natalie commanded, stepping in. “It’s Girls’ Night, and since you don’t have the right parts, you’re not invited.”

Thankfully, with that, they had drawn attention, which was what Natalie had been counting on. A giant man apparently harassing three women minding their own business wasn’t going to go over well in a town like Charming, not when those three women were connected in some way to the MC that sheltered their town. 

He raised both his hands to signal his surrender as he backed away slowly. “My apologies,” he replied sarcastically. “You ladies enjoy your evening.”

Once he was out of earshot, Reagan murmured, “Let’s go somewhere else, please.”

Natalie wrapped an arm around her and squeezed, “Absolutely. I think that’s a great idea. Come on, Michonne.”

Then Natalie wrapped her other arm around Michonne’s shoulders, glad for the cool air as soon as they made it to the parking lot after the hot, nearly suffocating atmosphere of the bar. She kept her head on a swivel as they made it out to the car, making sure the man wasn’t following or watching them. 

Reagan looked to be doing the same thing as they had Michonne lay down in the backseat. “Let’s get her home, huh?” she offered. 

Natalie nodded as she got into the driver’s seat. “Who  _ was _ that?”

Reagan sighed. “His name is Beta,” she answered finally, clearly irritated. “He’s new in town. Trying to set up a chain bakery or something. He came in and gave me a hard time the other day. I let Negan know, and he went over there, clearly. Even though I told him not to because…”

“Because it’d end up being a dick measuring contest,” Natalie finished for her. “I’m sorry, Reagan.”

She shrugged as she looked out the window, but she didn’t comment any further on it. Natalie hated this for her, more so than she did the thing with Negan. She would always have Negan, Natalie knew that, but the bakery was a business and had a much shakier foundation by default. If she lost it, she’d be devastated. That was obvious. 

“Do you mind if I drop you off first?” Natalie asked. “Michonne lives pretty close to me.”

“No, that’s fine. I gotta get to bed. It’s later than I thought,” she said, forcing a laugh. 

Natalie nodded and offered her a small smile as they turned down her street. As she took in all the small houses that were here, Natalie had to agree that quaint had been the perfect way to describe everything in Charming. It was called Charming, for fuck’s sake, but there was nothing wrong with quaint. She’d had the alternative and she didn’t see what all the fuss was about. She definitely leaned on the side of the MC, and not just for the reasons Michonne had listed earlier. 

They said goodnight as soon as they pulled into Reagan’s driveway and Natalie watched as she made it inside safely before heading back out. 

“We’re going to see Negan, right?” Michonne asked, still laying down in the back. 

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Natalie smirked as she realized how easy she was to read around these two. And, for once, it didn’t bother her. 


	13. lucky strike

Natalie’s car bottomed out on the concrete as she sped into the parking lot of the clubhouse, causing sparks to fly out behind her momentarily. The term ‘bat outta hell’ came to mind for her, sure, but she found it hard to care. Michonne groaned quietly from the backseat, but otherwise remained asleep. She’d only just closed her eyes and started snoring a few minutes ago, but what Natalie was going to do wouldn’t take long enough for Michonne to even notice, so it wasn’t like she needed to wake her up fully for it either. 

She parked sideways in one of the unmarked spaces and left her car running as she started inside quickly, barely looking back to make sure Michonne was blissfully unaware of the brewing drama. 

She didn’t stop to ask permission of the guys outside the door as she strode inside without a word. Natalie could hear them asking her something, but she didn’t care enough to stop. She was on a mission now. 

She was pissed. Someone had upset Reagan. Sweet, innocent, and way too hot for her own good Reagan. 

And they were going to pay. 

There was no discussion to be had anymore. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Negan would take care of it. Honestly, she felt silly for not approaching him sooner. Even though he was the President, and what she was doing was a bit unorthodox based on what she knew of MCs and their hierarchy, he was clearly in love with Reagan. 

He  _ should _ be told. 

“Where’s Negan?” she asked the bartender quickly, not wanting to lose her nerve. 

He smirked as he took in her tiny form, hands on her hips, and a wild look in her eyes. He didn’t seem to find her a threat because he silently pointed her in the right direction. Even without having been here before, she could tell the room where Negan was now would be their version of chapel, or whatever they called it, and she was expressly forbidden from going inside.

She wished she’d thought far enough ahead to bring Michonne after all. Natalie wasn’t sure where she expected him to be, but it hadn’t been behind a wall, metaphorically and literally. At least not this one. 

She bit her lip as she hovered near the door and then looked back to the bartender. He had the same smirk, basically daring her to do what she knew was off-limits, but even she wasn’t brave enough to break  _ those _ rules. 

When she did finally turn back to the door, she did the only thing she could think of to do. She knocked. 

She could hear the bartender chuckling low, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she rolled her eyes and waited for Negan to appear. He didn’t keep her waiting long, thankfully, because the women that always hovered in a place like this were starting to descend and she was getting super uncomfortable. They could probably sense her fear, which wasn’t a cute look on a good day, but definitely not in a place like this. 

“Who the fuck…” 

He started to bellow, but was cut off when he looked down a whole foot and noticed Natalie standing there bathed in a very impatient demeanor. She was seconds from tapping her foot, but she stopped herself. 

“You’re Negan, right?” 

Negan nodded and smirked. 

“Good, listen. Some douchebag came to the club we were at tonight––I don’t know the name, sorry––and he was being  _ awful _ to Reagan and I thought…”

Negan’s facial expression shifted rapidly when Natalie mentioned Reagan, and he ushered into the room gently and shut the door behind them. 

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

Natalie was immediately jarred by the fact that she was even in the room for a second, but when she noticed Daryl sitting there, she almost forgot what she came there to say. In this space, he felt like a whole other person. One she didn’t recognize. One she was having problems tearing her eyes from. One she suddenly had the urge to kiss.

“Natalie, right?” Negan said, shaking her from her internal dialogue harshly. “What’d this guy look like?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” she started, shaking her head to get rid of those not-at-all-helpful thoughts. “Sorry. I work at Cara Cara with Daryl,” she explained, stuttering slightly, managing to look back to Negan finally. “And yeah, he was super tall. Looked like a hippie that was trying too hard. Which, I guess, is all of them, but, like, he was trying  _ extra _ hard. I don’t know.” She shrugged and ducked her head. “And he just came right up to us and I almost karate chopped him in the fucking dick, but I wasn’t sure what I was allowed to do. Sorry for, um, coming here. Seriously. But I couldn’t just let that go. Reagan was hella uncomfortable.”

“No, normally you’re not allowed in here,” Negan agreed. “But this is different. You always come here if something is going on with that huge asshole. You hear me?”

Natalie nodded and swallowed hard. The gravity of the situation was finally catching up with her now that her anger had waned significantly. It was as if her body knew Negan was really going to handle it and she didn’t need to do anything else. Her friend would be just fine and she could rest easy tonight with Negan in charge.

She could feel his eyes on her as she sat back down, obviously in the place where he’d been before she so rudely interrupted with her teenage drama bullshit. Natalie couldn’t stop the shame from taking over. Sure, she should’ve told Negan. That wasn’t in question, but she could’ve handled it way differently. This felt childish somehow. 

Not that Negan was making her feel that way. If anything, he was validating everything, but somehow that made it worse. 

“Well, let Daryl take ya home, okay, darlin’?” Negan offered, motioning for Daryl to follow her out. “And let me know if he pulls anymore bullshit, okay? Daryl will give you my direct number.”

“Thank you, Negan,” she said as sincerely as possible. 

“No problem,” he replied, smiling sweetly. 

She turned on her heel right for the door, but before she shut it, and before Daryl rejoined her, she heard Negan chuckle low and tell him to keep an eye on her, which was probably warranted at this point. 

She definitely had to keep her emotions more in check than that. She just hadn’t had a lot of girlfriends over the years, and something about Beta made her feel helpless. He could have, at any point, literally overpowered them and there wasn’t anything they could’ve done. 

And being helpless made Natalie Sutter angry. 

When she finally got back out to the driveway area again, Daryl hot on her heels, all the guys huddled around the door parted quickly when they noticed him. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled quietly. 

“For what?” he asked. 

His hands were in his pockets as he walked her back to her car, still running with Michonne obviously still sleeping in the backseat. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just… I know I wasn’t supposed to go in there and…”

“Nah, cut it out,” Daryl interrupted firmly. “You didn’t storm in there. You knocked. Negan let you in,” he explained. “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Hear me? Someone came up to you in a bar and you handled it perfectly.”

She nodded and swallowed hard, her hand on her door handle. She wasn’t sure she trusted his judgment completely, but she appreciated him trying to make her feel better. 

“I heard Negan,” she admitted. 

She opened her door and went to slide into the driver’s seat when Daryl put his hand over the top of hers and stopped her. 

“Heard him what?”

“He said to watch me.”

Daryl chuckled low, the same way Negan had inside. “Not for your safety. For everybody else’s.”

She could only furrow her eyebrows at his explanation. That didn’t make sense to her. Why would anybody else need protection from her? 

“He didn’t want you haulin’ off and smackin’ someone in the dick,” Daryl said, a wicked grin on his face. “Not that I wouldn’t kill to see that.”

“I said karate chop,” she mumbled, making him laugh harder. 

He even threw his head back as he did that time, making her smile despite her embarrassment at her earlier actions. She couldn’t help it since Daryl expressing any extreme emotion, happy or sad, was incredibly rare. At least around her. 

“You did everything fine,” he repeated. “I’m just gonna ride behind you, make sure you get home, okay? Nothin’ big. Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

Daryl stared at her hard for a few more seconds before he finally removed his hand, nodded curtly, and let her get into the car. He walked quickly over to his bike as she reversed out of her spot and did exactly as he said. 

She wouldn’t deny that she felt better knowing he was back there, but she didn’t want to think about why that might be. She couldn’t count on it, so she knew better than to let herself go there. Even with Reagan and Michonne, she knew it was temporary. 

Everything was. 

She moved her rearview mirror to check on Michonne as she made her way through the quiet streets of Charming and was shocked to see her staring back. 

“That wasn’t awkward or anything,” Michonne croaked, her voice rough with sleep. 

“Sorry,” Natalie repeated. 

“Stop apologizing,” Michonne commanded. “Daryl’s right. You didn’t do anything wrong. I woulda come over here myself if you guys hadn’t let me get so wasted.” 

Natalie smiled at her reasoning as she pulled down Michonne’s street. Despite knowing it wasn’t permanent, she couldn’t help how nice it made her feel. And instead of swatting away the good feelings, she let them sit for a minute. 

It wouldn’t kill her to enjoy herself either. 


	14. wild enough

Negan roared through the streets on his motorcycle, paying no heed to the speed limit. He didn’t give a flying fuck how fast he was going, for one thing. And the other, of course, was that he had meant to handle this last night, but had no idea where Beta lived. If he had… well, it was probably best not to think about it. Not that he didn’t deserve it. 

He had wanted to take this asshole Beta out about thirty seconds after meeting him, and clearly he should have. He’d harassed Reagan again, and Negan had spent the entirety of last night tossing and turning over it. He wanted to find Beta, but he also wanted to go check on Reagan. 

He knew he couldn’t, though. Their relationship, or lack thereof, was already weird enough. He didn’t need to blur the lines even further, for either of them. Which was why he was barreling down Main Street in Charming in broad daylight on a mission to fuck somebody’s shit up. 

It had been hard enough to sneak away from Rick and Daryl this morning. He didn’t want to waste whatever time he had before they caught onto his plan. 

Beta was harassing the one woman who everyone else knew to be out-of-bounds, the one who should’ve been his girl about a decade ago. And Rick had come to him that morning with reports from several shop owners that Beta was trying to intimidate them too. All of this was inexcusable. This was his town. End of discussion. 

He just assumed that Beta would’ve listened the first time. He hated when he had to prove someone wrong. It always got so messy. 

Negan rode his bike right up on the sidewalk outside Beta’s restaurant and parked it, swinging one leg off and striding toward the door. When it didn’t open, he didn’t bother to knock this time. Instead, he punched right through the glass and reached in to unlock it himself. 

Beta emerged from the back at the sound, but didn’t seem all that concerned. He was wiping his hands on a towel, but Negan was already seeing red, and the edges of his vision were getting fuzzy. 

“You owe me a new front door,” he explained calmly. 

Then he rose up to his full height and crossed his arms. Negan knew that look. He was posturing, which only made things worse. 

“I don’t owe you shit,” Negan growled back. “You need to get the fuck outta my town,” he bellowed. “You need to stay the hell away from the businesses here, and most importantly, you need to never, ever go around Reagan Teller or her bakery.”

The corner of Beta’s mouth twitched into a smile. It was so quick Negan thought he might’ve imagined it for a second, but he knew it had been there. He didn’t know what it meant, but it didn’t matter right now. 

“Are you gonna leave?” he asked bluntly as Beta remained silent at his outburst. 

Beta grinned wolfishly and shook his head. “Not a chance, Negan.”

“Fine,” he grunted, shaking his head too. “It’s your funeral.”

Negan strode toward him, only taking two large steps before he was close enough, pulled his arm back, curled his fist, and punched Beta as hard as he could. 

Beta stumbled back as Negan’s fist connected with his nose and he hit the counter he’d walked around to face Negan. He went in for a second punch, surprised when he was grabbed from behind just in time to stop him from throwing it. 

He struggled hard against the weight holding him back, but it was too much. “Fucking let go of me!” he yelled, turning his head from side to side to see who it was. He knew he shouldn’t be shocked to see either Rick or Daryl there, but all it did was make him struggle harder. “I’m your President. I’m ordering you to fuckin’ let go!” 

“Doesn’t work like that, Big Hoss,” Rick drawled. 

He and Daryl were struggling to hold him back, even with it being two against one. Negan knew he probably resembled more of a possessed bear than a man right now, but he didn’t care. This fucker had to pay. 

“You can’t do this in the middle of town,” Rick tried to argue. “It’s light out.”

“You’re not doin’ it at all,” Daryl grunted. “I already called Shane.”

Right on cue, Negan heard sirens getting louder by the second as they came closer and closer. “You fuckers called the cops on me?” he snarled. 

“For your own good,” Rick reminded him. “You’ll thank us later.”

“I  _ highly _ fucking doubt it,” Negan retorted.

But as the sirens ebbed and Shane entered the building, Negan did stop struggling. He knew when he was beat. And he didn’t want to make Shane’s job any harder than it was, even if Beta deserved to have his ass handed to him. 

Shane strolled in casually, his boots crunching on the glass that littered the floor. “Got a call about a bit of a disturbance,” he announced vaguely. “You gentlemen care to enlighten me as to what’s goin’ on here?”

Rick, Daryl, and Negan all stayed silent. It was better that way, and they all knew it. They could tell their side when they were alone with Shane. 

When Beta realized they had no intention of talking, though, he shook his head. “Just a misunderstanding, Chief Walsh,” he said, addressing him calmly, like before. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here for nothing.”

Even with Rick and Daryl breathing a sigh of relief at Beta’s answer, Negan knew he couldn’t let him off that easy, no matter what it cost him. 

“This asshole’s been harassing local business owners,” he said quickly, pointing to Beta. “He went to Reagan’s, and even messed with her, ‘Chonne, and Natalie at the bar last night. He’s trying to intimidate people before he even fucking opens.”

Shane bit his lip, cocking his hips to one side as he put his hands on them. “Well, Negan, that does sound distressing,” he admitted, “but I’m afraid to say that I haven’t received a single report of harassment.”

His words were clearly reluctant, and Negan instantly recognized his tone of voice. Shane always gave them as much leeway as possible, but he still had a job to do, or else he wouldn’t be able to keep it. 

And he always had to be extremely careful in front of a newcomer. Those were the rules. They were Negan’s rules, in fact.

“Ask Reagan,” Negan snapped. “She can tell you. And Rick can give you the names of everyone else.”

“I can look into it, of course,” Shane promised. “But for now, with nothing official on the books, this looks like a bit of a… overreaction to me.”

Negan could tell that Shane hated saying those words to him, since it did deal with Reagan, but he was stuck. At least he’d avoided asking Beta anything directly. He didn’t deserve to speak his mind on this or any topic, and Shane was making sure he didn’t get a chance to interject any nonsense either. Negan had to give him that. 

But Beta didn’t need an invitation, unfortunately. 

“I was trying to be gracious, but if you’re going to tell lies, Negan, why don’t I just tell the truth about what happened here?” he suggested, causing both Daryl and Rick to shake their heads. 

“Chief,” he continued unprompted,” Negan broke down my door to get in here and then punched me in the face. I’m sure you can guess the apparent reason for his little accusation.”

Negan took a deep breath as the anger swelled back up quickly. Anyone with eyes probably knew how he felt about Reagan, but that didn’t mean he could dismiss all the very real issues over his crush. 

“Can anyone else confirm that?” Shane sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers.

Rick and Daryl kept their mouths shut, like they had during the whole interaction. And, technically, they had only arrived in time to stop Negan from doing more. They didn’t know anything for certain. 

Negan shook his head. “It was just us.”

“Just us, Chief,” Beta agreed, glaring back at Negan. 

“Well, then we have some choices here,” Shane admitted. “I can book Negan for assault, but you’ll have to file an official report and maybe testify. I’m not trying to deter you,” he added quickly, “but it’s not as easy as everyone thinks, is all. And in he said, he said situations, a lot of the time a judge will just throw it out.”

“So you’re saying my choices are really to let it go or not and potentially suffer the consequences of the club?”

“Or,” Shane added before Negan could pipe up, “I can make his punishment more… unofficial. He parked his bike on your sidewalk. That’s a hefty fee right there. And you can file a restraining order.”

Beta clicked his tongue, seemingly weighing his options. He wanted to make Negan squirm, but none of those things made him the least bit nervous. 

“Chief,” he said finally, “I’m just trying to make a living here. Be part of the community, if you will. I sincerely apologize if any of my actions have been misconstrued as threatening. Happens sometimes on account of my size, but it certainly wasn’t my intention. And the last thing I wanna do is get off on the wrong foot with Negan and his… well, gang. I know how important they are around here. So… no charges and no restraining order,” he announced. “I think the most appropriate course of action is maybe that unofficial punishment.”

Shane nodded and then jerked his head toward the door. “Come on, then. Gotta cite ya, Negan. Get you down to the station and sort it all out. Make you pay for the door too.”

Daryl went first, smiling apologetically at Shane, and Rick shoved Negan along next. He kept pushing him in the back when he didn’t move at first, probably scared he was going to be a colossal idiot and start the whole thing up again. 

He didn’t, though, of course, since he wasn’t  _ that _ stupid.

When they got back out to the sidewalk, he stopped by his bike while Shane wrote up the ticket. 

“Negan, I’m sorry. I…” 

Negan waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t care about the ticket,” he mumbled. “I care about that asshole gettin’ away with murder.”

“I’ll talk to everybody, Negan,” Shane promised, “but harassing Reagan is hardly murder. And you can’t go off all half-cocked like that. If you beat the shit outta or kill somebody, I can’t ignore that. Not if you do it like this,” he added with a whisper. 

For a moment, Negan found he still wanted to argue. This fucker was trying to come into his town and act like he owned the place, and that couldn’t stand. Not in Charming. This was his sanctuary. 

“I know. Let’s go,” he finally mumbled. 

Shane handed over the ticket. “Come down to the station. Pay this and let me know everything that’s going on, all right? I’ll take care of it.”

Negan didn’t respond, just jerked the offending little yellow paper out of his hand. He didn’t honestly believe Shane was going to be able to solve this in the traditional way. Not with Beta. And he was sure Beta knew that too. 

But that was fine. Negan could take care of it himself. 

He was just going to have to use the back channels he’d sworn to abandon only a few short weeks ago. 


	15. let the light in

“Are you sure she’s going to be okay with a sitter?”

Jesus looked to Aaron as they walked into the party, asking for the millionth time or so. They were some of the last to arrive, so Jesus knew Aaron had spent extra time getting him away from baby Gracie. The parking lot and clubhouse were overflowing, music was playing loudly, and food and drinks were being passed around. 

He flushed and ducked his head when he realized just  _ how much _ extra time. 

“Jesus, relax,” Aaron laughed. He put an arm around him and squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. “She is going to be fine. It’s not like we’re gonna be out all night, right? It’s just gonna be for a few hours.” He paused and glanced down at the shorter man, putting a finger under his chin and forcing Jesus to look at him. “Honestly, I thought you’d be thrilled to get a break. I mean, I know the party thing isn’t exactly our scene, but food we didn’t have to cook isn’t terrible. Right?”

Jesus shrugged. “I’m just worried about leaving her with someone else, ya know?”

“We left her with Melody,” Aaron countered with a laugh. “She has, like, fourteen kids of her own. There’s literally no one else I’d trust.”

“I know, but… she doesn’t  _ know _ Gracie,” Jesus protested. “She doesn’t know what each of her little cries sound like or what they mean.” 

“Such as?” Aaron asked. 

“The little quack one she does. It makes her sound like a duck. She only does that one when she’s upset. Not hungry or tired or anything else. And if Melody feeds her again because she doesn’t know then…”

When Jesus finally paid attention to Aaron again, he saw a smirk on his face. He stopped talking and put a hand on his hip in frustration. “What?”

“You’re just… such a good dad. And I am totally in love with you. It’s disgusting, in fact, how much I love you,” Aaron commented.

“You weren’t already?” Jesus asked, perking an eyebrow at Aaron and daring him to contradict him. 

“Oh, definitely. But, like, even more now.”

Jesus rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “Come on. Let’s go eat some of this food we didn't have to cook.”

“And don't have to clean up,” Aaron added. 

“Right.”

Aaron nodded and began to guide Jesus deeper into the clubhouse toward all the delicious smells wafting towards them from the bar area. They nodded to Shane as they passed him, who had already headed out by the time they dropped baby Gracie off. 

Shane had clearly already made his rounds and was now hanging out with Daryl. That’s where he’d stay too, since that’s where he was the most comfortable. 

He had a beer in one hand and a burger in the other. Someone walked by and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Shane! Where’s Melody and the kids?”

Shane laughed around a mouthful of burger and shook his head. “If you think my wife is gonna bring our kids to a porn party, man, you got another thing coming.” He chuckled low. “She’s home with them, and she kinda became daycare central for everyone else who’s here.”

Daryl grunted as the person moved on. “Mel said anything else about all this?”

Shane shrugged. “You know her. She doesn’t like the idea. Still. But it’s gonna be confined to the studio, and obviously kids and stuff aren’t seein’ anything. She’ll feel better when all the excitement dies down in a few days. I know it’s exciting and all that with porns stars walking around and what not.”

He gestured to the room at large, but didn’t actually turn to see anyone. There were indeed plenty of women in revealing clothes and taller heels than had ever graced Charming before, but except for the fact that there were more of them, this wasn’t exactly uncommon for the clubhouse either. If anything, more people meant only good things for the small businesses in Charming, so he was more than okay with it. 

“So, where’s your girl?” Shane drawled, taking another large bite of his burger and grinning at Daryl. 

“Natalie?” Shane nodded. Daryl swallowed nervously. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

He stuck his thumbs in his back pockets as soon as he answered, looking around like he hadn’t been searching for her since he’d arrived. 

He’d invited her himself, and she’d promised to show up, but he hadn’t seen her just yet. He figured she was probably with Reagan, or Michonne. Knowing those three, they were probably all together or something. 

They could even still be outside. Or maybe with Negan, since he was sure Natalie was still trying to interfere with him and Reagan, but overall, he tried not to care. Which was going well, obviously. 

“Oh, please,” Shane continued, swallowing hard again. “Everybody’s talkin’ about it, man,” Shane chuckled. “You got eyes for her. She’s the writer at Cara Cara, right? Bet she’s got lots of good ideas about what to do in the sack, huh?”

Daryl blushed and looked down at his feet. “Isn’t like that between us,” he protested quietly. 

“But it  _ could _ be,” Shane continued, not ready to give up. “You know how excited Mel is about the idea of you settlin’ down. She won’t let me alone about it. Keeps asking if I’ve seen you two together around town or anything.”

“Settlin’ down? I’m not even datin’ anybody,” Daryl argued, looking back to Shane. 

“Well, she’s already pickin’ out china, so…”

Shane took another bite of his burger as Daryl scuffed the ground with his toe. “Whaddya even need china for?” he grumbled. “Why don’t you go give Negan a hard time about Reagan? They’re way closer than I am with anything.”

“Daryl Dixon, you know full well that only I am allowed to give Negan shit about Reagan. Everybody else is too afraid of him,” Michonne chimed in out of nowhere. 

She came up behind him with Rick, both of them carrying plates loaded down with food. 

“Because Negan will knock the shit outta anybody who even teases him about it to his face,” Rick agreed “Daryl’s never gonna do anything about Nat anyway. He’s gonna brood and pine away. Everyday at work, they’ll gaze at each other mournfully while sad piano music plays in the background.”

Michonne snorted as Daryl wrinkled his nose and Shane started laughing again. “O Natalie, Natalie, wherefore art thou Natalie?” Shane intoned, holding up his beer as if to a balcony. 

Daryl scowled now and Michonne clapped him on the back. “Seriously, Daryl. She’d be good for you. You should just go for it. We only tease you because we love you.”

“You could have given us a few more lines, ‘Chonne,” Rick argued. “Let us give him a little more crap before you go and give him good advice next time, huh?”

“Yeah, but if he scowls anymore at you guys, I’m afraid he’s gonna kick your ass,” Michonne pointed out. 

“That’s fair,” Shane guffawed. 

Thankfully, Daryl was freed of the obligation to say anything else when Carl came up and interrupted their conversation.

“Hey, Dad. We got more of that beer Negan likes? I can’t find any where the drinks are, and he’s askin’ for one.”

“I always keep extra in the fridge in the back. Just don’t tell anybody else about it, okay?” Rick replied. Carl nodded and went in the direction his Dad had pointed, but before he could escape entirely, Rick grabbed him by the collar. “Hey. Don’t get yourself into any trouble tonight, son. You hear me?”

“I will kick your ass to the moon and back if you knock up a porn star,” Michonne added through a mouthful of fried pickle. 

Carl laughed and blushed a little. “Got it, Mom. I won’t get into trouble. I swear.”

“Make ya clean the toilets if you do,” Daryl added, his mouth quirking up at the corner. 

“You make me do that anyway,” Carl retorted. 

Carl shook his head as all of them laughed while he walked away. He knew that everyone’s heart was in the right place when they poked fun at him like that. He was a Prospect, after all. That’s basically what he was there for, but he also knew when people were just flirting with him because he was a member of the MC, so he was going to be fine. He wasn’t really into that kind of thing anyway. 

He found the fridge his Dad mentioned quickly, reaching in and grabbing a beer for Negan. His President was particularly grumpy tonight, so it was nice that he had found them. Carl wasn’t sure the alcohol was going to help, though, but he was going to find out one way or another. 

He wove through the crowd expertly on his way back to the parking lot. Negan had stationed himself on a bench by the clubhouse wall so he could keep an eye on the festivities. He was vaguely reminiscent of a king holding court on his throne when he was like that, considering the way everyone in attendance stopped to at least acknowledge him. 

Carl also knew Negan wasn’t really a fan of these parties, no matter what they were about. He was too accessible at them, and he had to be to please his community. Basically, what became a pleasant experience for everyone else became an exercise in hearing grievances for him. 

People would invariably dump a load of issues at his feet that he, or Carl, would need to have taken care of as soon as possible. And it wasn’t that they minded, but usually Negan had a more measured approach to hearing issues. 

“Negan.”

Carl nodded and handed over the beer. Negan took it, nodding back. “Thanks, kid. Go enjoy yourself,” he commanded. “Fuck a porn star or whatever you kids do these days. No matter what your Dad says,” he winked. “But do not knock one up. Your Mom will kill us both.”

Carl laughed. “She  _ did _ say something about that. Thanks.” 

He wandered off quickly, leaving Negan alone again. He sighed, taking a pull on the cold beer and smiling as Reagan returned with two plates of food and handed one to him. 

“I told you not to do that, Sunshine,” he chastised her playfully. 

“And you knew I was gonna do it anyway,” she replied. “You need to eat, especially if you’re gonna drink like that.”

He nodded, knowing she was right. It was just another reason why she was perfect. She knew how to take care of people. Especially him. 

The party had been going on for a little over an hour, and most everyone had talked to him already, so he finally had a moment to himself. And he wanted to use it to talk to his favorite girl. It was the only reason he’d agreed to this mess in the first place. 

He knew he shouldn’t, but as he looked at her thoughtfully, watching her as she watched everybody else, he decided it was time to finally ask the question that had been bothering him for almost two days now. 

“So when were you gonna tell me that Beta gave you shit the other night when you were out with Nat and ‘Chonne?”

Reagan bit her lip as she looked back up at him sheepishly. “I wasn’t, obviously,” she answered softly. 

He reached out and used his fingers to tip her chin up further. “Why the fuck not, may I ask?” His words were angry, but his voice was gentle. It always was with her. “You know that I’d take care of it for you.”

She smiled up at him. “That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you, Negan.” He frowned and she sighed. “I know the changes you’re trying to make. I get why you’re opening Cara Cara. You’re trying to change this place. I don’t want you doing anything to hurt that because of me. He’s just talking a big game, Negan, and yes, he’s sleazy as hell, but he didn’t hurt me.”

At that, a million other thoughts started running through his mind. The one that was the most prominent was what Beta might do to her if he ever decided to escalate. If his threats were slow enough in their seriousness, she might not even notice until it was too late. 

But all he said to her was, “You’ll tell me if anything happens again, Sunshine. Promise?”

She sighed as she gave in. “I promise, Negan.”

“Good.”

They ate in silence until their plates were empty, then Reagan got up. “I’ll get us some dessert.”

“Sunshine, you don’t…”

She shook her head. “I need to check in with Natalie, anyway. I don’t want her running off with one of these hooligans.”

Negan laughed. “Yeah, right. Daryl’s got her wrapped so tight around his finger, she’s not goin’ anywhere.”

She smiled and gave him a wink as she walked away, but it faded quickly as she made her way back outside. Her brow furrowed as she looked around for her new blonde friend. She dumped the paper plates in a nearby trash can as she finally caught sight of her. 

She knew Michonne had been way too drunk that night to tell Negan anything, so that left Natalie as the culprit. She knew that Natalie was trying to protect her, but she didn’t need Negan flying off the handle like that and getting himself in any more trouble for her. 

She was supposed to take care of him, not the other way around. Especially when there wasn’t anything to fix. She owed him after the way he had looked out for her all these years, never asking for anything in return. 

Reagan could see her talking to someone, but couldn’t see his face. She probably needed to talk to her about the rumors floating around the clubhouse about her too, so this conversation didn’t need to be all about that. The guys around here, as sweet as most of them were, would want one thing from her, and while she was sure Natalie could take care of herself, she felt the need to at least warn her. 

However, when she got closer, she couldn’t help but smile. 

Daryl was the only one she was talking to, and everyone else was giving them a wide berth. She didn’t need to tell her anything, and hopefully these two would find their stride soon and finally be honest with one another about their feelings, but it’s not like Reagan could offer up that advice since Natalie wasn’t willing to take it. 

She tapped Natalie on the shoulder when she was close enough. The other woman whirled around, her blonde hair creating a shimmering sort of halo around her head with the movement. 

“Hey, Reagan!” she greeted her warmly. “What’s up?”

Reagan sighed. “Did you tell Negan about Beta being at the club the other night?”

To Natalie’s credit, she looked properly guilty as soon as Reagan asked. “Yeah, I might’ve been feeling a bit ballsy, and I wanted that asshole to know he couldn’t do that shit.”

Reagan nodded. “I get it. I do. Trust me. But you can’t go to Negan, okay? I appreciate that you’re worried about me. Seriously, I appreciate it more than I can say, but Negan… overreacts a lot when it comes to me. Beta didn’t technically do anything.”

Natalie thought about protesting, but she bit her tongue. She’d clearly upset Reagan, which was the last thing she wanted to do, but she also had done what she did for one reason: to keep Reagan safe. Negan had a good heart, she could tell, but he also had a temper. If anyone was going to be able to fix it, it was him. 

In a rare moment of affection, she lunged forward and hugged Reagan. “I’m sorry. I overstepped,” she relented. “I just wanted you to be safe.”

“I know. Thank you.” She smiled at Natalie as she pulled back and then at Daryl over her shoulder. “I’m gonna… go grab somethin’ sweet for Negan. You guys have fun, all right?”

Natalie nodded as she watched Reagan walk away. When she turned back to Daryl, he was gazing at her skeptically, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t think you overstepped,” he observed. 

“Not a chance in hell,” she admitted. “But I’m also not dumb enough to tell  _ her _ that.”

Daryl laughed. “Could tell me next time, ya know. I have experience breaking shit like that to Negan.”

“I will remember that,” she promised. 

They fell into another awkward silence as they both sipped on their beers. The party was starting to wind down, and while she very much liked hanging out with Daryl outside of work, she could tell he was still super tense around her. 

If they had any chance of being friends, real friends, she had to get him to loosen the hell up. She didn’t know him well enough, though, to be able to help him there, so she’d just have to keep coming to these parties and hanging out as often as possible. 

She hated the idea of him being so wound up just being around her. It didn’t seem fair. 

When they made it back inside with everyone else, Michonne and Rick were already on their way out. She had completely lost track of time, or how long she’d been talking to Daryl, so when she looked down at her watch, she was shocked. 

She looked around for Reagan and came up empty. The redhead was her ride home, after all, and if she was occupied with Negan, she’d end up being here all night. 

She thought of asking Daryl for a ride, but she figured that wasn’t going to help his nervous energy around her. If all the little jokes Daryl had endured at her expense told her anything, he had a crush on her, and being pressed up against each other wasn’t going to help that situation. 

Granted, she wasn't going to complain if he took that first step either, but since they did see each other every single day for most of the day, she wasn’t sure it was the best idea. 

After a few more minutes of her fruitless search for Reagan, she said goodnight and headed toward the parking lot. She pulled out her phone and called her when she noticed her car was gone. There was no way Reagan would just leave her without saying a word, even if she’d been mad about her telling Negan. 

Unless she’d upset her more than she realized. 

“Shit,” Natalie muttered when Reagan’s phone went to voicemail. 

She would have to go to the bakery tomorrow and apologize in some grand fashion to see if she could salvage their friendship. Reagan was a sweetheart, and as much as she knew she was right, Reagan was allowed to set up boundaries and she was supposed to respect them. 

“Need a ride home?” someone asked nearby. 

She was ecstatic to see both Jesus and Aaron standing there instead of anyone else. 

“Thank you, guys. I appreciate that.” 

“We’re heading out now,” Aaron said, smiling at her. “Need to pick up baby Gracie and get home.”

“Sure, I’m ready.”

Natalie slipped into the back of the car, staying silent on the way home, only giving them her address as she tried to compose a text in her head to Reagan that would pave the way for her fantastic apology. Aaron and Jesus seemed to realize she didn’t want to talk, so they stayed quiet too, which was nice of them. 

She did make sure to thank them as she stumbled out of the backseat and into her place, smiling when they stayed in the driveway until she was safely inside. 

Jesus sighed once when they were alone in the car again. 

“Long night,” Aaron observed, glancing at him. “You had fun, though, right?”

“I did. Thank you.”

Aaron smiled to himself as they made another turn, but it quickly turned to a frown as the headlights illuminated a car sitting on the side of the road that he recognized. 

The area they were driving through was a bit of a shortcut of sorts, and certainly not the residential way Reagan would’ve taken if she was heading home. There was no reason for her to stop there. 

Jesus sat up straight suddenly. “That’s Reagan’s car,” he observed quietly. 

“I don’t see her,” Aaron said, worry coating his words. “Car trouble?” 

Jesus shook his head. “No. Stop the car.”

Aaron obeyed immediately and they both got out. There was hardly any moon in the sky at all, and the dark silence that hung around them made the scene even more eerie. It seemed to suffocate them. 

Then they heard the unmistakable sound of Reagan’s scream, and they both started to run in its direction, not caring what they were about to meet. 


	16. evolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning
> 
> Mentions of almost rape are in this chapter, and the aftermath is in the next. No actual rape or penetration of any kind occurs, but if this is triggering for you, please skip the next two chapters.

Reagan managed one more loud scream before one of the four men who’d grabbed her tightened her gag, making it almost impossible to even breathe. 

“Shut up, bitch!” he commanded, slapping her across the face. “No one around to hear you anyway.”

She felt like such an idiot. She felt so safe around the clubhouse. So safe, in fact, that she hadn’t thought twice about walking to her car alone in the dark to get her cell phone charger. That was when they’d grabbed her, though, shoving her in her own trunk before driving her here to do whatever they were planning on next. 

She should have remembered that the club was never  _ truly _ safe, no matter how it felt when she was with Negan. When you were connected to the club like he was, you were vulnerable. Period. And she knew that better than most. 

She hadn’t even had a chance to scream while she was still within Negan’s reach either. If she had, he would’ve come running. But whoever these guys were, they were smart. 

Smarter than the Dead Ones, certainly. They had been the first culprit to run through her mind, of course, but these men weren’t wearing kuttes. And if they were from the Dead Ones, which would have made sense given the most recent events, they would’ve done it to send a message. 

“Beaten and raped bloody should get the point across, shouldn’t it?” one of the men intoned, grabbing her chin and getting close to her face. “Can’t have your little boyfriend gettin’ the idea that he runs this town.”

Reagan could only whimper in response, causing the guilt to rush over her in waves next. She hated the helpless feeling, but the gag was making it impossible for her to give any sort of real retort. Also, she was scared. There was no other way to put that. She believed them and their threats. And they were right. There was no one to save her, and she certainly couldn’t save herself. 

As they pulled the cable ties they’d used to bind her to the fence behind her tighter, she whimpered louder. She tried kicking out, but since she was hanging just off the ground, she didn’t have the leverage she needed to make any sort of impact. She had no strength like this. 

When one of the other men moved forward and reached out, putting a hand under her skirt, she started to cry. She felt his fingertips skim along the sensitive skin there as he pulled down her underwear. There was nothing she could do to stop this, but if she was lucky, she wouldn’t die. Even if she might want to when it was all over. 

She squeezed her eyes shut. 

Reagan couldn’t think of anything else to do. Nothing would make it easier or improve her situation, but she didn’t have to watch it either. 

“Get the hell away from her right now,” someone growled nearby suddenly. 

Reagan’s eyes shot back open at the noise and she immediately saw Jesus and Aaron standing there. She didn’t care how they had found her. They had done it. She was saved. 

She could worry about Negan and the repercussions later. She might actually survive whatever the hell was happening here. 

She didn’t miss that Aaron was shaking a bit. She knew that he wasn’t usually the gun type. In fact, he often hung back when the club had to indulge in anything particularly violent, making her feel awful he had to do it now. 

Jesus, on the other hand, was in his element as he snaked around to the other side. He was the Enforcer. This was what he did. He fixed each man with a hard stare as he carefully made his way toward Reagan. 

“You may have us beat in purely number sense,” Jesus said quietly, but forcefully, “but this is a small town. If any of you move, he will blow you away. And if you make it out of this building alive, you won’t make it out of town. I guarantee you that.”

Reagan would’ve held her breath as she watched, had she been able to do that. She wondered if these men were willing to risk dying just to get their hands on her. 

She hoped not. She was literally hinging her hopes on their self-preservation instincts. 

Jesus grabbed a knife out of his belt and cut her free as soon as she was within reach, removing her gag in one swift movement. Her eyes were wide with relief and fear as she stared at him. 

“Run to the road,” he whispered as he leaned in, keeping an eye on the men surrounding them too. “Don’t look back. If we’re not right behind you when you get to the car, just get in and go. Get everyone else and tell them where we are.”

She bit her lip and shook her head, but none of the words were really sinking in as tears filled her eyes at the thought of either of them getting hurt. 

“Yes,” he said firmly, contradicting her. “Listen to me, Reagan. I know what I’m doing. I will be all right if you do what I say.”

She nodded hurriedly this time. She  _ did _ want to get out of here more than anything, and she knew Jesus was right. But the last time she’d tried to defend someone, she’d been stabbed in the hand for her troubles, and her brother had died anyway. She had no frame of reference for this going her way. 

“As soon as you follow her, we’re gonna come after you like gangbusters, Pretty Boy,” one of them announced in a low voice. 

“You don’t think I know that?” Jesus asked witheringly, rolling his eyes. 

Then he moved faster than Reagan thought possible. He started by hitting one man directly in the throat with his arm and the other right in the balls. When the other two lunged at him, making Reagan scream again in surprise, he ducked neatly under them, grabbing their arms and swinging them around until their heads knocked together. 

Had this been any other situation, she would’ve laughed at how comically the whole scene played out. But this was anything but funny. 

The look on his face was vicious too. Reagan had to scoot back, shrinking behind Aaron to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. She’d forgotten what she was supposed to be doing, and as Jesus stood back up, he loomed over the men writhing on the floor. 

When he reached down to grab one by the collar, though, Aaron interrupted him. “There are too many of them, Paul,” he insisted fiercely. “We have to get out of here. We have a baby girl at home and I am  _ not _ raising her alone.”

When Jesus turned back to them, the predatory look in his eyes was gone. One of the men was also trying to get up off the floor already, which didn’t bode well. But Jesus kicked him swiftly in the gut and then looked to them both. 

“Run,” he said succinctly. 

This time, Reagan turned and ran. As the reality of being rescued in time started to sink in, she began to sob. By the time she reached the car, she was gasping for air, and the only thing she could do was lean against the closed door. 

Jesus grabbed her from behind when he caught up, opening the back door and lifting her gently inside as Aaron started the car. He held the shotgun steady long enough to hand it back to Jesus before he peeled away from the scene of the would-be crime. 

Reagan didn’t know where they were going, but she didn’t really care as long as certain people were there. 

“I want Negan,” she cried quietly, curling up into a ball in the backseat. “And Natalie.”

“We’re taking you straight to the clubhouse,” Aaron explained, driving like they were in a high-speed chase, though it didn’t seem like anyone was behind them. “And Jesus can call Natalie right now.”

“Yeah, you’re on lockdown,” Jesus added, “until we can figure out who the hell those guys were and what they wanted.”

Reagan knew that Negan was going to go after them when he saw her and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. Earlier, she’d been worried about him, but now all she wanted was him. She wanted him to protect her. She wanted those men to pay for what they’d tried to do. 

She was tired of sadness and violence and pain. Now all she wanted, all she needed, was comfort. And she was only going to be able to get it from one place. 


	17. and i always will

Negan sighed and looked around the clubhouse. It was a fucking disaster, but it was expected after one of their infamous parties. Still, it frustrated him, even though he wasn’t the one who had to clean it up. He liked everything neat and organized. Being in chaos like this made his mind feel the same way. 

He did one more pass through the main room to make sure no one had fallen asleep in an awkward place, then he ran a hand through his hair. He was bone-tired, and even though he didn’t really think he was going to be able to sleep, he was determined to at least give it a shot. 

But all that changed when he heard the clubhouse door slam against the wall behind it as someone hurried through. They were calling his name before he even had time to turn around and find out who it was, but when he heard the sound underneath the cry for him, he went into hyperdrive. 

Reagan was sobbing. 

Something was very wrong. 

Negan surged forward to grab her out of Aaron’s arms before he had time to question what was happening. She immediately clung to him as he started slinging rapid-fire questions at them. 

“What the hell happened to her? Who did this? Where did you find her?”

He cradled her close, not giving Aaron or Jesus a chance to respond, every ounce of tiredness now gone from his body, suddenly replaced by an anger that could only be described as poisonous. 

Of course, that anger surged when he could feel she wasn’t wearing anything under the sundress she had on. 

“Where the fuck are her goddamn panties?” he growled. 

He listened as carefully as he could while Aaron tried to explain everything, his chest heaving as he saw red everywhere. Someone had gotten it in their head that it was a good idea to go after his girl. A mistake that would need to be rectified as soon as possible. Preferably by cutting off their dicks, but he could get into the nitty-gritty of their punishment when he was sure Reagan was okay enough to be left alone. 

As she struggled to get even closer, he made a decision. After he killed the fuckers, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight ever again. Or someone’s sight, at least. Someone who could protect her, or would be afraid of his wrath if they failed. 

“She wanted Natalie,” Jesus added quietly. “I called Rick and Michonne. They’re on their way here with her. Carl and Judy too.”

Negan nodded. “Good. In fact, get everybody over here now. We’re on fucking lockdown until we know what the hell is happening. Nobody else is gettin’ hurt, or almost hurt. Got it?”

“Got it,” Aaron and Jesus announced together. 

Then they burst into action. Jesus turned to go start making phone calls while Aaron began cleaning the place up and making it acceptable for kids to be in here again. Negan knew he could count on them to take care of the rest, so he put a hand under Reagan’s legs, which were about to give out anyway, and picked her up, carrying her bridal style to his room. 

The irony of the situation was not lost on him. 

He sat down with her on his bed, gently rocking her back and forth. “You’re all right now, Sunshine,” he said, trying to be soothing and knowing he was probably failing miserably. “Nothing's gonna hurt you ever again, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. You’re safe here. With me.”

“I was so scared, Negan,” she murmured, still holding onto his shirt tightly. “I thought they were gonna…”

“Shh, shh. Don’t think about that anymore, okay? It didn’t happen, and it’s not gonna happen. I promise,” he said. 

He needed her to be quiet as much for himself as for her. He didn’t think he could hear what they’d done right now, if ever. The thought of what they were planning made him crazy enough without knowing any specifics. 

For a moment, he thought she was going to start crying again. But she was mostly quiet, trying to calm her racing heart. Instead, she just leaned heavily against his chest, burying her face there and breathing in deeply. He held her, completely unwilling to let her go. 

But he had to, especially if he was going to find out who did this and kill them for their crimes. 

He started to move to sit her on the bed, not entirely surprised when she shook her head and clung to him harder. “You can’t leave me,” she whimpered. “No more leaving. They might come back.”

He knew that her fear was irrational, and also knew she was well aware of it too, but she wasn’t going to be able to use logic here. She had been alone and terrified, which he would forever see as his fault. He had left her and someone had taken her. Had tried to violate her. Seeing her like this was unbearable for him. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if the worst had actually happened. 

“They won’t come back, Sunshine,” he replied unnecessarily. “Even if they did, everybody’s coming over. There’s no way they’d get through.”

He hated doing this, but he knew he was on a timetable. He wanted to be there for her as she worked through this. But he had to find them before they disappeared. It was already highly unlikely they were still at the warehouse Jesus and Aaron had told him about. And he couldn’t stomach the thought of those fuckers walking around, wreaking havoc on Reagan’s emotional state at the idea that they were still out there. 

No. It had to be tonight. 

A loud, anxious voice had them both staring toward the closed door to his room. 

“Where is she? Where’s Reagan? Take me to her now!” Natalie demanded. 

He could hear Daryl’s low, rumbling voice in reply, but he knew that not even Daryl was going to be able to calm that woman down now. 

Reagan peeked out from his chest finally. “Natalie?” she murmured. 

Negan nodded. “Want me to go get her for you?”

If Reagan could just get a few minutes alone with another person, he could formulate some sort of plan. 

“Yes,” Reagan answered softly. 

This time, she let him move her to the bed. “Okay. Stay right here, okay, Sunshine? Don’t move. I’ll be right back with Nat.”

Reagan nodded and curled up on the bed, hugging Negan’s pillow to her chest as he left the room. The sight was almost too much to force himself to leave, but he managed to do it. He intercepted Natalie when she was almost halfway down his hallway. 

“Where is she? Is she okay? What happened to her?” she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks now, a wild look in her eyes. 

Negan grabbed the woman by the shoulders and made her stand still for a moment. “She’s shaken up and a little roughed up, but Jesus and Aaron stopped the worst of it.” He bit his lip, scared to continue. “I need you to do me a favor, Nat.”

“I’ll do anything if it means you’re gonna wipe those assholes off the face of the planet,” she insisted. 

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” Negan whispered, confiding in her. “But you can’t tell anyone else that. They’ll wanna talk about it and vote and I can’t waste time right now. They’ll accept it just fine later without me cuttin’ through all the red tape to get there.”

“I can keep a secret like you wouldn’t believe,” Natalie swore.

“Good girl. They’ll think I’m gonna go deal with this lockdown shit. And, technically, I am. I need you to stay with her, though. And you gotta calm down too, girl. Get her to go to sleep. She’s done cryin’ for now, but she might get worse later and I have no idea when I’m gettin’ back.”

Natalie nodded. “Yeah. I know how shock and trauma works.” Her face fell as she glanced behind Negan to the door he’d come out of. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

He needed her in the right mindset to know it was okay to leave her with Reagan. Two women all wound up and emotional wasn’t going to help anything. 

“I… thought she left without me. I thought she was mad because I told you about Beta the other night,” Natalie whispered, hanging her head. “If I had done something…”

Negan shook his head vehemently. “And I thought she was just gone for the night, Nat. Everyone’s to blame, and no one is, okay? We couldn’t have seen this comin’. Doesn’t mean we’re not gonna feel guilty about it, though. But right now, we have to take care of her. We can deal with the rest later.”

“You’re right,” Natalie admitted, looking back to him and squaring her shoulders. “Take me to her.”

Negan watched her carefully for a minute, letting her wipe her face and get ready. Then he led her back to his room. Reagan sat up the instant Natalie came in and the other woman rushed over to hug her without a word. 

“I’m so sorry, Reagan,” Natalie whispered after a quiet second. 

Reagan stayed silent. She looked at Negan over Natalie’s shoulder, though, as he picked up Lucille. 

“You’re going?” she wondered, her voice cracking slightly. 

He swallowed and glanced at his bat. He knew she would understand what was happening now, and he hated to think she was involved so intimately in a part of his life he had always tried to shield her from. 

“I have to, Reagan,” he finally said. “They have to pay for what they did.”

She gripped Natalie tighter and slammed her eyes shut. “Make it hurt. Please.”

Negan hated that they had turned her into someone that asked him that, but he knew it was unavoidable now. She was in it deep. She was ready for all that his life entailed. He just had to figure out if he had what it took. If he deserved to be with her. Deserved to be the one to protect her. 

He nodded. “I will, Sunshine. I swear it.”

There was another moment of silence, then Natalie spoke. “Shower, then I have a sleeping pill you can take. You need to rest. We can figure everything else out in the morning. All right?”

“All right.” She let her eyes open one more time as they focused on Negan. “Be careful.”

He smirked slightly. “Don’t worry about me, Sunshine. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Do you promise?” Reagan asked, her lower lip quivering. 

Natalie squeezed her tighter as Negan nodded. “I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He was tempted to stay again, to hold her, to kiss her forehead, but he needed to earn it. He always kept his distance in an effort to protect her, but clearly he’d been wrong. 

He took a deep breath as he left the room, shutting the door behind him and striding down the long hallway the opposite direction that Natalie had come. He could slip out of the back of the clubhouse undetected this way, and that was his primary focus.

He had one mission now. He had some heads to bash in.


	18. collide

It was just after dawn when Negan made his way back to the clubhouse. When he had left, he had been thrumming with energy, fueled by adrenaline. Now he was simply exhausted.

He swung his leg to get off his bike, all of his limbs feeling like lead. He was hoping not to get caught by anyone before he made it back to his room. All he wanted now was Reagan. Reagan and a shower. And sleep. Sleep was definitely on that list too.

When he was rested, he could deal with the fallout.

The fuckers who had taken Reagan had actually been dumb enough to stay put at the warehouse, so he’d found them easily enough. After he had killed one, the rest had been terrified enough to spill everything they knew. Not that it saved them.

And what he learned didn’t make him feel any better.

Beta was far more dangerous than any of them had realized, and Negan wasn’t going to be underestimating him again. He had no idea what he really wanted, because of course he hadn’t told those idiots, but this was about more than some damn bakery. It had to be.

Negan slipped through the back again, hoping that would save him from running into anyone, but he should’ve known better. He barely managed to bite back a groan when the sliver of light that snuck through the door with him illuminated Rick as well. He was leaning against the wall, a statue waiting to come to life when Negan returned.

“We gotta talk,” Rick said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah,” Negan sighed. “I know.”

He’d cleaned off Lucille to the best of his ability, but his clothes, and, well, the rest of him, told a much different story, leaving little to the imagination about his activities.

“I thought we agreed,” Rick accused him quickly, pushing off the wall to stand right in front of him.

He poked him right in the chest, and Negan let him, knowing there wasn’t an alternative. He was justified, but not any more in the right. The rules were there for a reason, even when it came to the President.

“And now you fly off the handle like this?” Rick continued, gesturing to the blood on his jacket. “You went and took lives without a fucking vote?”

Rick’s voice was rising in volume, and while Negan didn’t really care if anyone else woke up, he didn’t want Reagan to have to relive her worst night in a while. He would do it again in a heartbeat, even with Rick up in his face like he was now.

He did realize, though, that Rick was dangerously close to saying a bunch of shit he didn’t mean. Not that Negan wouldn’t forgive him, but it was a bad habit the man had, and not everyone would be as willing to let him walk them back once they left his mouth if they were witness to it too.

“Rick,” Negan started, his voice deep and raspy from having spent a good portion of the night yelling, “I can explain…”

“Explain?” Rick retorted. “There’s no explanation I’ll accept, Negan. We agreed! You can’t make unilateral decisions. Especially when you were the one who wanted to move us away from this shit in the first place!”

“I…”

Rick opened his mouth for another salvo, when a calm, even voice interrupted them both.

“Someone kidnapped Reagan from the party,” Jesus explained quietly, appearing out of nowhere in the hallway with them. “Aaron and I caught them by chance. They roughed her up, though, before we got there. And they were gonna rape her.”

Aaron, who was standing beside Jesus, as always, actually flinched at the explanation, closing his eyes as if it could stop him from imagining it. Negan didn’t envy either of them. Reagan would have witnessed something way worse if it had been him to catch them in the act, for one thing. Probably something from which she could never recover.

Rick went pale, glancing back at Jesus and swallowing hard before nodding. “Where is she?”

“In my room here,” Negan answered, pointing to his door. “Natalie’s with her. Gave her a sleepin’ pill or something so she’d rest, I think. I was gonna clean up and check on her.”

“Does that mean the lockdown is over?” Aaron asked curiously.

He was obviously still trying to diffuse the situation, distracting both of them from bringing up Reagan again. He didn’t blame him. Reagan had been a touchy subject before, but now he could see why it seemed it would be his switch for doing something ridiculously stupid.

Negan shook his head. “They were just cronies. Hired by Beta. I have no idea what he’s going to try next, but that big fucker is not hurtin’ anymore of our people. Especially Reagan.”

“I’ll let everyone know we have chapel tonight,” Rick offered. “We’ll figure out what to do next.” He paused and then held out his hands for Lucille. “I’ll have Carl get cleanin’.”

“Thanks,” Negan told him, handing her over without complaint.

Rick nodded and turned to take care of business like only he could. Negan knew he’d get a proper apology from Rick later, but he didn’t need one. He hadn’t crossed any lines. He was second-in-charge for a reason and the only one allowed to call Negan out, which he’d done. But right now he just wanted to know Reagan was okay.

Everything else could wait.

“Did you get all of them?” Jesus asked quietly when Rick disappeared again.

“Yeah,” Negan replied softly. “We’ll talk about the rest later.”

Jesus nodded back. “Thanks, Boss.”

Aaron nodded too, clearly not trusting himself to say anything out loud. Jesus put an arm around him and they turned to head back down the hallway, the same way Rick had gone, leaving Negan alone again.

He sighed heavily once more. Disaster narrowly avoided. Apparently he had a tiny bit of luck left.

He took a deep breath and slipped through his door. Reagan curled up in a ball on his bed, sleeping soundly, was the first thing he noticed. Second was Natalie, sitting in a nearby chair. Her laptop was open and the keys clicked loudly in the eerie silence that otherwise filled his room. The glow her screen gave off completed the look.

He paused and glanced at her, which caused her to stop typing and look up at him. “Is it done?”

He nodded and whispered, “For now.” He looked toward Reagan and then back to Natalie. “Beta hired them. I don’t know why. We’re meetin’ about it tonight. Lockdown stands. That means you too.”

Natalie chuckled. “Try telling her that. She woke up and wanted to go back to work. I gave her half a pill to knock her out for a few more hours. Buy you some time.”

Negan grimaced slightly. “Is… is that good for her?”

Natalie shrugged. “According to the instructions, it’s fine.”

“Okay. I’m, uh, gonna shower. Then I need sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” Natalie agreed, making the motion to stand up and leave.

“Can you stay? I just don’t want her to wake up and be alone.”

“Sure,” she nodded, sitting back down. “I’ll be here until you’re done. Then I gotta find Daryl. We still have some work to do. And it’ll give you some time to be alone.” Natalie paused, then grinned. “Might wanna handcuff her to you so she doesn’t get away, though.”

Negan barked a laugh lightly. “I’ll remember that.”

Shaking his head, he disappeared into the bathroom to finally take a shower. He practically fell asleep in there too the minute the warm water hit him, but he shook himself awake. For one thing, he needed to scrub the blood off since he didn’t want Reagan to have to see it.

When he finished up and dried himself off, he found a pair of lounge pants that were reserved for his bedroom and a simple white t-shirt. When he re-emerged, steam followed him, and as promised, Natalie was still sitting dutifully by the bed.

Natalie stood when she noticed him. “I’m gonna go find Daryl,” she announced. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” He grabbed her arm as she went to leave. “Thanks, Nat,” he told her sincerely. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Don’t, uh, don’t worry about it. We both love her, Negan,” she admitted shyly.

Negan, on the other hand, swallowed nervously at the dreaded L word and she shook her head at him, smiling wide. “You’ll say it eventually,” she decided, certainty coloring her words.

“All right, Mom,” Negan grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully.

She giggled and shut the door, leaving him alone with Reagan finally.

This moment felt like a long time coming. He sighed and stood there for a moment, savoring it and hating it all at once. She was breathing evenly, but her bright hair was mussed. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear.

She looked so peaceful while she was sleeping. He wondered how much of that was the pill, or if it could have anything with knowing he was protecting her always.

He hoped it was the latter.

He allowed himself a few more minutes of just staring at her, taking her all in, before he crawled in beside her. He pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly, then he buried his nose in her sweet-smelling hair like he always imagined doing and fell asleep almost immediately, hoping everything would be clearer when he woke up.


	19. notes from you

Reagan stirred as she started to wake up slowly. She felt both like she was coming out of a coma and like she was still asleep somehow, and when she tried to roll over, she was surprised to find she couldn’t move. Her body felt oddly lethargic and heavy. 

She turned slightly, trying to figure out where the pressure around her middle was coming from, and saw Negan had her in a vice grip. 

She was asleep with Negan. She was asleep with Negan in his bed. 

She blinked rapidly, trying to get a handle on her surroundings. Her brain felt foggy as she tried to pick out pieces she could understand. 

As she looked around, she groaned lightly when she noticed a sliver of light filtering through the drawn curtains next. The glimmers around their edges also let her know it was well past the time she normally reported to work. If the sun was already up, she was late. People were probably lined up outside her bakery waiting for their breakfast. 

In the back of her mind, she knew she was enjoying being wrapped in his arms, but she needed to get to work. Actually, had to get to work was more accurate. 

She swallowed hard and carefully began to wiggle her way out of Negan’s embrace, careful not to jostle him too much. Reagan knew to be stealthy. 

The night before was starting to come back to her in snippets and the tears that started to sting her eyes helped restart her memory in the worst way. The embarrassment at being in that position was almost debilitating, but she forced herself to keep moving, keep going. 

But she knew if Negan woke up, she’d be forced to talk about what happened, and she wasn’t ready yet. She wasn't sure if she ever would be. She wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened at all. It wasn’t healthy, but it worked for her. Or at least it had all the other times when horrible stuff had happened to her. 

She had managed to get free just enough to sit up properly and put a foot on the floor when she felt Negan’s long fingers curl around her wrist and tug lightly. She bit her lip to suppress the groan at being caught. She had been banking on the idea that he was tired enough not to notice. 

“Not goin’ anywhere,” he grunted. 

“I have to go to work, Negan,” she protested in a whisper. 

“We’re on lockdown,” he stated simply, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his free hand. 

“Negan…”

“Just stay in with me,” he interrupted. 

He lifted the comforter back up and motioned for her to lay back down. For half a second, she stared down at the inviting spot, but knew she’d just end up lying awake thinking about everything she didn’t want to think about while Negan slept, and that wasn’t a good place for her to be. 

“That doesn’t apply to things that make money,” Reagan retorted finally. “Cara Cara is open, isn’t it?”

He sighed heavily. “Things that make money for the club. You know I love your bakery, Reagan, but it’s not protected the same way.”

“So…”

“Reagan, I can’t,” he admitted. “I can’t let you outta my sight. Not after last night.”

She ducked her head as the tone in his voice shifted dramatically. He not only meant that sincerely, she could tell what it would do to him now to know that him leaving her alone might get her hurt, whether they were together or not. She knew his reasons for staying separate, at least in the relationship sense, because they were her own. And she knew last night had challenged that in the most violent way. To have him talk like he was now, like it would destroy him, meant that they had wasted all that time trying to stay apart for no reason, and she knew they weren’t ready to tackle that yet. 

“I can’t stay, Negan,” she explained. “I’m not tired. I can’t stay in here and listen to you breathe and think about everything from last night. And I’d feel awful if I kept you up. I’m already embarrassed enough.” 

He ran his hands over his beard and moved his head to the side until he was looking directly in her eyes. “What do you want me to do?” 

She shrugged and he chuckled. They were obviously at an impasse with neither willing to compromise, and rightfully so. 

“Can I go hang out at Cara Cara?” she offered. 

“You don’t wanna hang out there,” he argued. 

“I want to see Natalie,” she said clearly. “Please.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched. “You don’t actually need my permission, Reagan. You know that.”

“But I’m asking anyway.”

He took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling for a second before nodding. “Fine, but please don’t try to go to work. It’ll be fine for a few days if you just rest.”

She smiled wide and then hopped off the mattress, and this time he let her go. His fingers were sprawled out waiting for her to take them, but she knew better than that. 

“I’m just going to Cara Cara,” she insisted. “I promise.”

“Then straight back home. I mean, uh, here. Straight back here,” he corrected quickly. 

“I promise,” she repeated. 

She turned to hide her smirk, making it seem like she was looking around for anything she needed to take with her. 

Then the blush started to creep on her cheeks. “I, uh, need to go home first.”

“Reagan…” 

“I need to change,” she interjected. “I don’t have anything on… underneath.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry. I meant to pick something up for you when I came back and totally forgot.” 

“It’s okay,” she assured him, “but I really do need to go home then.”

“Right, yeah.”

He swallowed hard as he threw an arm over his eye and nodded, and Reagan had to fight the urge again to go to him. To let him wrap her up, to make her feel safe. Right now, she didn’t feel like she’d done anything to deserve those things, though, and certainly not from Negan. He’d always been so good to her, but she was pretty sure that she knew how he saw her now. It’s how anyone would see her now, and she hated it. 

“You need to sleep, and Natalie’s probably worried about me. I’ll go see her at Cara Cara and I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yep.”

“No one’s allowed to follow me either,” Reagan said. Her voice was quiet but firm. “But I’ll pack a bag.”

She said it like it could be a compromise Negan might accept, but she could never be sure with him, especially where it also involved her. Maddening didn’t even begin to describe how complicated their relationship had become, but there was no turning back either, from whatever this was. That much was clear. 

Negan nodded one more time and gave a weak thumbs up, never looking out from under his arm as she slipped out of the door. She hesitated for a second, wondering what the best way to go and stay undetected was when she heard him talking inside. 

“Yeah, Aaron. Hey. I need you to follow Reagan. She’s hellbent on going to Cara Cara to talk to Nat.” He got quiet for a second, obviously listening to Aaron on the other end. “Yeah, and she’s gotta go home first to change and stuff.” He paused briefly, offering a few well-placed ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh-huhs’ before he finalized his plans. “Just, like, stay back far enough that she can't see you. I don’t want her to bite my head off when she gets back, okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile to herself, even though she wanted to stay angry. She’d also known that he wasn’t going to actually let her go anywhere alone. It really had been a silly request to make, but she wanted to control something. It hadn’t even been twelve hours and she could tell that was going to be the hardest part for her. 

She needed to feel safe again. 

Reagan didn’t deny that it meant something to her that he had waited for her to leave the room before calling Aaron. He hadn’t done it in front of her, like he probably wanted, or called her out about how ridiculous her request was, but again, she didn’t have time to dwell. She needed to get home, take a shower, try to wash off the events of last night as soon as possible. 

She moved quickly down the hallway, eager to leave the crowded clubhouse, even if it was just to end up at Cara Cara. At the very least, Natalie was there, and spending time with her was just about as normal as she could ask for. 

Even if they were going to be surrounded by porn stars.


	20. without and within

Daryl was waiting outside when Reagan arrived at Cara Cara. He nodded at her as she gave him a pointed glance. 

“What?” he grunted. “Negan told me you were comin’. Don’t look all shocked.” She rolled her eyes and he gave her a smirk. “Breakfast just got here. You’ve got some in there too. Get some while it’s still hot.”

She huffed dramatically, but walked in, and Daryl made sure to wave to Aaron as he pulled up on his motorcycle shortly after. He jerked his thumb toward another entrance and Aaron nodded, heading in that direction so Reagan could keep pretending she hadn’t noticed him. 

He took a sip of his coffee as he watched Aaron disappear before heading back inside himself. Daryl made a beeline for his office, leaving the door open. He sort of hated the idea of even having an office, and liked to pretend that wasn’t what it was, but it was hard to deny when his kutte was hanging neatly on a coat rack by the door. 

He groaned as he sat down to complete his grumpy look before opening up his e-mail tab again to deal with all the annoying little things that came with running a business. Until now, he’d been blissfully unaware any of it existed and suddenly found himself appreciative of the saints that Rick and Aaron were for handling all the club business.

He lifted his breakfast burrito in one hand, using the other to awkwardly click through each e-mail as he kept an ear out for anything going on in the building. It had become second nature to keep his head on a swivel, but it wasn’t always fun. 

He read each one carefully, writing down all the new tasks required of him on a notepad nearby, trying desperately not to intrude on the conversation going on behind him. 

Natalie and Reagan were sitting on the couch not that far away in the little waiting room, which wasn’t exactly private. He thought, for half a second, about closing the door, but he knew Natalie wasn’t shy about making sure she had privacy when she wanted it. 

Coupled with the fact that there were a few actresses hanging out nearby in the open green room, he felt less like he was eavesdropping and more like this was completely normal. 

Except for the topic of conversation, of course. 

“Sorry to drop in on you like this,” Reagan repeated. “I know you’re probably busy working. Can’t make a movie without a script, huh?”

Natalie snorted. “I write like the wind. Stop fucking around. Tell me what’s going on.”

Reagan sighed as Daryl smirked, still facing his computer. Leave it to Natalie to cut through the bullshit. 

“How much do you know?” Reagan asked quietly. 

“About as much as everyone else, I think,” Natalie admitted. “Jesus and Aaron found you after some idiots kidnapped you and wanted to, um…. send a message.”

Daryl grimaced at the euphemism, but that’s exactly what had happened. He wondered, though, if dancing around it was the right way to handle it, but he didn’t have authority on this. Thank God. 

Reagan was quiet for another minute before Daryl heard her swallow loudly. He didn’t need to turn around to know she was bright red. “Everyone else?” she squeaked finally. 

“Well, Negan put them all in lockdown, remember?” Natalie prompted. “The reason spread a bit.”

“Shit,” Reagan said succinctly. 

Even though she was trying her best to sound upbeat, like always, and make light of how she felt, Daryl knew she was upset. He’d known her long enough for that. She didn’t like any chinks in her armor, though, and she never wanted pity. And being considered weak was a federal offense to her, but obviously Natalie saw through all of it. 

“It’s not your fault, Reagan. No one blames you. If anything, they’re blaming themselves. But I get it. I really, really do,” Natalie explained. 

Damn, that girl was perceptive. And Daryl was still trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“You do?” Reagan wondered. 

“I think so. Based on what I heard,” she amended. “Why don’t you tell me, though? Talking about it helps, usually. It did for me.”

Daryl couldn’t help himself anymore. He turned in his chair to face the two women. Natalie looked sympathetic and serious, and Daryl hated what that meant. She had intimate knowledge of how Reagan felt, which meant something had happened to her too. Something Daryl didn’t know about. 

Reagan was curious too. Her eyes were wide and she was biting her lip, but when she opened her mouth, it wasn’t more questions. She started to tell her story. 

“I just felt… helpless,” Reagan summed up. “I couldn’t stop them from grabbing me,” she whispered. “I couldn’t call for help. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t defend myself. I couldn’t even keep my cool around them. I just… broke down,” she explained, looking down at her hands. “And then all I wanted anyone to do once I got out of there was protect me. I just feel so pathetic. I always thought I’d be better than that in a crisis, but that’s the second time I've failed.” 

“You didn’t fail,” Natalie assured her quietly. “You survived. In those kinds of situations, that’s all that can be asked of you, okay? I know that movies and books and stuff make it seem like you have to be a badass about it or you’re a disgrace to your sex or something, but that’s not true. You made it through, and you’re mostly okay. That’s… that’s amazing.”

“Well, it doesn’t feel amazing,” Reagan muttered. 

Natalie looked up suddenly and stared right into Daryl’s eyes. He knew he should be ashamed at the idea of being caught, but she didn’t look mad. 

“I’ve got an idea.”

She motioned for him to join them and he hopped right up, like her little finger that was beckoning him was enchanted and he had no choice but to follow its command. 

“Stand up,” she said to Reagan, doing the same. 

She stood behind Daryl and positioned him like she wanted him as Reagan did as instructed. Several of the girls from the green room were no longer trying to pretend they weren’t listening either and poked their heads out to watch. 

“Okay, now turn around,” she said to Reagan. 

Again, Reagan did as she was told. “Now, Daryl, grab her.”

“Excuse me?” he grunted. “No. No way.”

“Please,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m trying to prove a point.”

It took him a second with furrowed brows to understand what exactly that point was, but once he did, he got what she was trying to do. Natalie was going to help Reagan by proving her wrong. 

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before wrapping one arm around her collarbone and another around her waist. 

“Now, try to get out, Reagan,” Natalie said, standing to the side and watching with her arms folded. 

Reagan struggled, but not very much, barely moving an inch. It wasn’t even hard for Daryl to hang on. 

“Reagan,” Natalie reprimanded. “Try to get out.”

Reagan huffed quietly and then did just that. She thrashed wildly, but made almost no headway. Daryl, once again, had no problem keeping her in place. She fought harder and harder until she was out of breath and then Daryl loosened his grip. 

“Now, tell me again how you could’ve done anything different,” Natalie said quietly. 

She held out her arms for Reagan as tears started to flow freely down her cheeks. She wasn’t bawling properly, but her shoulders were shaking in a way that told Daryl she was crying pretty hard. 

He felt horrible, but he knew it was necessary. If Reagan thought she was strong enough to fight off three dudes way bigger than her, it was only going to make it harder for her. The fact that Natalie knew that made him sad, though, and in a way he didn’t know how to reconcile. 

Natalie shushed her as she smoothed down her hair, letting her go to pieces. One by one, the girls from the green room came out and huddled around her too and Natalie opened her arms up to them as well. Some of them were crying and some of them were stoic. Either way, it was clear that each one had been touched by something similar. 

Daryl walked back to his office and shut the door enough to give them some space, but didn’t close it all the way. He wanted to still be there for them if he was needed. 

Right now, though, they needed to feel the way they felt without him hovering. And as much as he wanted to run out and fix it, he knew that wasn’t possible. 

He could do something. He could be better. Negan would’ve never let anyone in the club that was capable of inflicting that sick shit on anybody else, but he resolved to do better. To be better. He would make sure he never made anyone feel an ounce of the way Natalie had felt before or Reagan had felt last night. It was so ingrained in him as a man, he knew it would be hard to erase entirely, but he owed the women in his life that. 

He owed them way more, but this is what he could do now. He would be better. 

“Now,” Natalie started, “you wanna talk about being in Negan’s bed this morning now or wait until later?”

Reagan gave a watery laugh and he smirked, happy that at the very least, they had each other. Some of the other girls joined in too and before long, they were all chatting easily again, about nothing in particular. 

Every once in a while he could hear something about Negan and how Reagan felt about him, but none of that was a secret. Not to him anyway. Not to most people. 

Maybe now, they could actually do something about it. If Negan could pull his head out of his ass long enough to finally admit he was madly in love with this woman.


	21. play with fire

Reagan arrived back at the clubhouse with Natalie in tow, as promised. She clutched her bag to her chest, looking around, clearly uncomfortable. Everyone was there. And now they knew what had happened to her, and worse still, she knew that they knew. As much as she believed Natalie, she desperately did not want to be the topic of conversation, especially not for something bad. Again. 

Deep down, she knew her worst fears about how they all saw her now were probably wrong, but that didn’t change her reaction. She still blushed and started to slowly make her way through the small groups just eating or hanging out, desperately avoiding making eye contact with anyone. 

Then Negan was in front of her. 

He gently pried her bag out of her grasp and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Sunshine,” he murmured. “Let’s go put this down in my room, huh?” 

“Your room?” she wondered. 

“Did you have a good day with Natalie?” he asked sincerely, ignoring the question in her comment. 

“Why would we go to your room? I’ve never stayed there in lockdown before,” she said, ignoring him right back. 

He glanced at her, but didn’t slow down. “Somethin’ wrong with my room?” he questioned playfully. “It seemed fine this morning.”

“That was a… special circumstance,” she stammered. “Wasn’t it?”

She slammed her eyes shut, instantly embarrassed at herself for having even asked the question. Normally, she had enough of a filter not to bring up things she wasn’t prepared to discuss, but today had brought down all her walls, and that was a dangerous place to be in when she had to also be around Negan for any amount of time. 

Whatever was going on, or not going on, between them suddenly was more than she was prepared to talk about. And she refused to give it any special meaning. She didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak that would inevitably follow. 

“Yes and no,” Negan finally acknowledged, opening his door and ushering her inside. “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. Sit down.”

He pointed to a spot at the end of his bed as he put her bag in a nearby chair. Reagan crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and shook her head, though he didn’t see it. 

“No. No, I don’t wanna talk about that,” she insisted in a small voice. “Not right now.”

Or ever. But she figured that wasn’t an entirely realistic option. 

Negan turned and frowned slightly, his brow furrowing, and the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Why not?” he asked, sighing loudly. “We have to talk about it sometime, Reagan. Might as well be now.” 

“Why do we  _ have _ to talk about it?” she asked. 

Negan sat down in the place he had pointed out for her and then patted the space beside him. She still didn’t move, knowing what accepting that small invitation would include. 

“Reagan, there’s no point ignoring this anymore,” he continued. “This... thing between us has always been there. It was never exactly easy for me to ignore, but now that Beta is here and laying some sort of claim, it changes things.”

“Why?” she repeated. “Why does it change anything at all? Why can’t we just go back to…”

“Before?” he asked, his eyebrows perked high. “Because you can’t put it back in the box, Reagan. It happened. And I realized some shit. I can’t  _ unrealize _ it.” 

“Why not?” she whispered, looking down at her feet. 

“Because the whole reason I was staying away from you was because I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Negan explained slowly. “And you got hurt anyway. So clearly, that isn’t workin’, which means my reason isn’t any good either. And if there isn’t any good reason to stay away from you, I don’t want to.”

She gasped lightly and looked back at him as he gave her the most heartfelt justification for his behavior up until that point. She hadn’t expected him to just lay it out like that. Negan liked to talk, that wasn’t news, but most of it was just bullshit. 

This was real. 

“You’re right, Negan,” she said quietly, coming to sit next to him finally. “There’s nothing to keep us from each other if that’s your only reason. But… it’s not my only one.”

She bit her lip and then forced herself to look anywhere but in his eyes. He  _ was _ right. She’d thought about it all morning, in fact. She’d been staying away from him because she couldn’t take the pain if something happened to him, but something had happened anyway. 

“It’s not? Then… what?” 

She didn’t miss the disappointment laced in his words. He’d clearly assumed that was their only obstacle, and she didn’t blame him for it. From his side, it probably seemed so easy. And it wasn’t like they’d ever really talked about it. 

Reagan forced herself to look back at him, deciding that he deserved for her to face him when she destroyed any chance they might have. Her heart clenched at the idea and she flinched when she saw the love reflected back at her. 

“Negan, I stayed away from you because I didn’t want to get hurt. That’s true. But it’s because… this…” She gestured around them, indicating she was referring to the clubhouse as a whole. “This is never a life I wanted for myself. This club is… wonderful, in its own way. I know better than anyone how close of a family it is, and I love it, but after losing my father and my brother to it, I just… I don’t know if I can bring myself to be so intimately involved with it again.”

He nodded slowly as he listened to her, not saying anything in return. His fists were clenched against his chest, and she could tell he was upset. He had every right to be. She was rejecting him, and she knew it stung. 

“Negan,” she continued, “I want… a life. I want my bakery. I want a husband. I want a family. And I don’t want to have to spend every single day wondering if I’m going to go home and find out that my family has been ripped apart because of this club.”

To his credit, Negan remained calm as she picked apart the argument he was planning before he even got to say the words. He was obviously tense, but his voice was even as he finally protested. 

“Then why haven’t you found someone? It’s not like no one ever asked you out in the past. They don’t anymore, but that’s because at some point or another, you rejected every man in town.” He let those words sink in before he kept up. “And you don’t seem to be leaving Charming, either. So… what are you waitin’ for exactly? Why aren’t you moving on? Are you afraid to go somewhere without protection?” 

She sniffled as the tears started to drip down her cheeks unexpectedly. “No. No, that’s not what I’m afraid of,” she replied softly. 

“Then what?” 

She could feel him staring at her, waiting for her response. When she didn’t answer right away, he repeated himself a little louder. 

“Then what, Reagan?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath to try and stop herself from saying it out loud. If she told him, he would never let it go. He’d never let  _ her _ go. She was going to have to push the situation further in the direction she had never intended so she could make him see. 

But she couldn’t help it. The words just tumbled out against her will. “I’m afraid I’ll never see you again,” she admitted. “I’m afraid I’ll leave and you’ll choose someone else and it’ll be too late by the time I realize you were the one I wanted all along.”

Negan sighed again, but this time it didn’t seem to be in frustration. It was more in relief. Like she had finally admitted everything he wanted to hear. 

And then he was wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap and she was giving herself permission to press her face against his big, broad chest as she cried. 

She felt him swallow hard as he rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. “I know, Sunshine,” he whispered. “I know this isn’t what you wanted for yourself. And I’m so sorry. If I could stop myself from wantin’ you, I would. I promise. If I could leave this club, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t do either of those things. And I would never lie to you and tell you I could.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” she sobbed, the dam breaking now. “We don’t even need to talk about this because it was all over before it started.”

“What… what do you mean?” he asked, forcing her to look at him again. 

His voice was confused and concerned, but all she could do was shake her head in response. She kept gulping for breath, not wanting to say it out loud, but knowing he wasn’t about to let it go now. 

“Because of last night,” she said, her voice small and trembling. “You don’t want me now. Not after… after what happened. I know they didn’t get what they wanted, exactly, but…”

“Reagan, stop.” He forced her back until she was sitting next to him again and he could look at her properly. “Stop right now,” he commanded. “Do you really think I’d hold that against you? Don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously glad those fucking degenerates didn’t get what they wanted, but I would never, ever blame you for it. I don’t blame you for any of what happened.” His eyebrows raised as a thought seemed to occur to him. “Do  _ you _ blame yourself for it?”

“Of course I do, Negan. I was stupid enough to get taken. I couldn’t fight them off. And Natalie showed me that I couldn’t have this morning, but there…”

“But nothing,” Negan retorted angrily. “You have  _ nothing _ to be ashamed of. Nothing at all. If anything, Sunshine, I’m more impressed with you now than yesterday or the day before. It changes nothing. Not a goddamn thing.”

As he talked, he stood up, his frustration overtaking him. “Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I was gonna ask you out tonight, ya know? Promise to take it slow, even though I’ve wanted you with every fiber of my being for so fuckin’ long, Reagan. But now… I don’t know if that’s gonna work.”

“Why not?”

She couldn’t think of anything else to say. And she hadn’t exactly decided anything either, despite her confession, so she had no idea where Negan could possibly be going with this.

“Because only showing you is gonna work. If I tiptoe around you, you’ll think it’s because of this. And I’m not gonna let you feel like that.”

“Huh?” she responded lamely. 

She was completely lost as he bent down to her level, grabbed her chin gently, and tilted her head up. “If you’re not ready for this because of last night, that’s fine. I can wait. I understand needin’ some time to get over it. But I’m all in, okay? Now. Forever. Always. No matter what. And I will do everything in my power to keep you and any family we might have safe. I swear it. If you wanna wait, tell me now.” He paused. “If you wanna say no, tell me now,” he repeated. “Because otherwise, I  _ am _ going to kiss you.”

She blinked up at him in surprise, her eyes wide, as all the words poured out of him so freely. Her cheeks flushed as she thought about him kissing her. 

God, she wanted him to kiss her. 

“Kiss me, Negan,” she murmured without thinking. “Kiss me. Please.”

He cupped her face completely in both his hands and bent to touch her lips. He went so slow she thought he wasn’t moving at first, but as soon as they touched, she was too stunned to move. There was fire in that kiss. Yearning. It was like every single kiss she’d read about in all those crappy romance novels over the years. 

And she couldn’t take it anymore. 

She fisted her hands in his shirt as she pulled him closer. He let one hand fall to her waist, lifting her back into his lap, but this time she was straddling him. His lips moved slowly, exploring every inch of her mouth. When she didn’t protest, his tongue flicked out too, imploring her to open for him. 

She moaned and obliged, pressing their bodies closer. This was better than anything she could ever imagine, and she  _ had _ imagined it more times than she could count. 

His hands started to move, sliding over her body like he was trying to memorize her curves. Her skin prickled and she shivered in anticipation as his rough hands ran over her hips and then back up to the sides of her breasts. He squeezed and she moaned into his mouth again, causing him to chuckle low at her reaction. 

His hands fumbled for hers, pressing them against him. “That’s how much I want you, Reagan,” he whispered. “God, I’ve never been this hard in my life.”

“I believe you, Negan,” she breathed. 

She desperately hoped he understood the double and triple meaning in her words. She did trust him. She trusted him with everything, and now she knew she could show him. It was a completely liberating feeling. 

From where she sat, she was in control, so she decided to take advantage of that. She pushed him back on the bed and began to kiss a line down his jaw and then his neck. He sat back up enough to pull off his kutte and then his shirt. 

She backed away only long enough to take his kutte and place it over the chair. As he watched her carefully, he toed off his boots and then his socks, tossing them all aside. 

“Let me do the rest, please,” she purred, kneeling down in front of him. 

As she started to undo his belt buckle, he leaned back on his arms and lifted his hips to make it easier for her. When she got his jeans undone and pulled them down, she rubbed him through his boxer briefs and he groaned loudly, his head tipping back. 

“Reagan, careful,” he cautioned. “I’ve been a bit pent up about this, you know. I won’t be able to hold out for long with you doin’ that. I want to be gentle. Slow. Make sure it’s good for you.”

“It will be, Negan,” she said confidently, reaching up and hooking her fingers into the waistband of his underwear so she could pull them down. He groaned again as he sprang free and she giggled. “Relax, Negan,” she said soothingly. “I’ve got this.”

She had fantasized about this exact scenario about a million times. She had played it all out in her head, what exactly she would do to him if she ever got the chance, so she wasn’t about to waste it. And having him at her mercy like this made her feel powerful. A direct contrast to how she felt yesterday. 

She wasn’t about to give it up. 

But as she reached out and wrapped her hand around him, leaning forward with every intention of using her mouth, he sat straight up. He forced her to stand before carefully depositing her on the bed, stretching out beside her, and stroking her hair gently. 

“That’s not the first thing we’re doing,” he insisted. “As much as I appreciate the thought, darlin’. I’m glad you changed your tune so fast, though.”

She giggled. “You really want me, huh?”

“Well, I’m glad it’s finally obvious,” he said, chuckling low. Then he grimaced as his cock twitched where it was nestled against her thigh. “Painfully obvious,” he amended, making her giggle again. 

“Well, get my clothes off and we can take care of that,” she said, leaning up for another kiss. 

He growled as he returned it, his hands making quick work of removing her dress. She laughed into his mouth when his movements essentially resulted in nothing happening, though. Then she guided his hands to the zipper hidden in the side and he tugged it down, allowing her to move her arms so it could easily drop off the side of the bed. 

He propped himself up on one arm and gazed down at her. “You always wear matching bras and panties this pretty?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when he caught sight of them. 

“Mmhmm.” She ran a finger down his chest. “Just on the off chance you couldn’t take it anymore and had to have me right then and there.”

“Now you’re just teasin’ me,” he accused, his eyes sparkling as she beamed up at him. “Two can play that game, missy.”

He popped the front clasp of her bra in one try, smirking at her triumphantly. She had just barely managed to keep herself from laughing at him. “That’s not gonna save you,” he warned. 

As he brushed the bra cups aside, he sighed. “Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are, Sunshine?” he asked, gazing down at her. “I wanna kiss every inch of you, but I’m fairly certain I’d spontaneously combust before then, so… just a taste for now.”

She couldn’t tell if he was talking more to her or to himself when he said it, but the minute he flicked her already hard nipples with his fingers, making her cry out, she realized she didn’t really care. She arched her back and squirmed excitedly, knowing she was just as aroused as he was, and hoping he would figure it out soon 

When he bent his head slowly and kissed each of her nipples lightly, she cried out again, then again as his mouth closed around them. He took his time, and she couldn’t help but wonder who this was torturing more. 

Her hands were tangled in his hair, holding his head against her chest. He squeezed and kneaded her breasts in return while he sucked, and his hips moved slightly against her core as she wriggled against him. 

She took his hand and desperately shoved it between her legs when she couldn’t take it anymore, needing him to realize how tightly she was wound. “Negan, please,” she begged. 

“Normally, I’d be strong enough to resist that, I think, but not this time,” he gasped, raising his head. “Let’s get these off.”

He hesitated slightly, looking up at her for confirmation he was okay to continue. She smiled at him reassuringly and nodded. She understood why he might be hesitant to do this, especially right now, but it turned out he was right about this too. It’s exactly what she needed. 

She hooked one arm around his neck, drawing him down for another kiss as he repositioned himself between her legs. She reached between the both of them and stroked him gently, not that she needed to get him ready. 

He was beyond ready. 

“Have you… ever…?” he wondered. 

She snorted. “Of course, Negan. I mean, not recently, obviously, but… I’m not exactly a virgin either. You don’t get that lucky,” she teased. 

He actually blushed a bit at her joke, making her laugh harder. “I don’t care if you are, Sunshine,” he said quietly. “I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Oh, Negan… you won’t,” she said, understanding quickly. “You would never. Now, please, for the love of God, I’ve waited long enough.” 

“We both have,” he agreed. 

She hooked her legs loosely over his thighs and helped him line himself up. He stroked her cheek tenderly, kissing her softly before easing himself slowly inside her. 

Her breath caught in her throat as he did this, and she could see why he might be concerned. He was bigger than any other person she had ever been with, and it wasn’t close. He continued to gaze down at her as he slid in all the way, stopping to give her time to adjust every few seconds. 

When he was fully seated inside her, she breathed in deeply. Yes, he was huge, and she felt full, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

“Negan, please…” she begged again, moving her hips to indicate it was okay. 

And that was all he needed. 

He grabbed her hips to hold her steady as he started to thrust in and out of her in slow, deliberate strokes. Her arms entwined around his neck, pressing their foreheads together. She was tempted to tell him he could go faster, but she wasn’t so sure she should. 

She didn’t want it to be over, so she let him dictate the speed. She let him dictate everything. She never wanted it to end. It was everything she’d been waiting for. 

She started to whine his name over and over. “Negan, Negan… oh yes, Negan…” 

He growled as he kissed her, his hands tightening on his hips as he finally started to move faster, knocking the breath out of her each time. 

“Fuck, Reagan, you are incredible,” he moaned. 

Her fingers tugged at the roots of his hair as she wrapped her legs tightly around him. She reached her peak seconds later, not shocked by the fact it was all happening in record time. And he followed right after, whispering her name against her skin as he held her tightly to him. 

She swallowed, then gasped as she tried to catch the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. He did the same, rolling slightly to the side so he didn’t rest all his weight on top of her. She snuggled up against his side, and as they came down from their high, they listened to the sounds of a bustling clubhouse. 

It was only down the hall, but it seemed a whole other world away. 

“Should we go join them?” Reagan wondered. 

She didn’t want to, but they were on lockdown. It would be appropriate for Negan to make an appearance at some point, and she was sure everyone would want to see her too to make sure she was all right. 

Apparently all her earlier worries regarding being the center of attention had disappeared. 

Negan chuckled. “Hell no, Sunshine. That was just a sneak preview. I'm not done with you yet,” he promised. 

She giggled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Good. Because there’s lots more I wanna do.”


	22. little do you know

Natalie sat at her usual table in the bakery, watching Reagan move around the space with ease. The minute they’d unlocked the door, she’d taken the sign off announcing that she’d been closed the day before. Well, ripped it off might be a more appropriate description, and Natalie could tell how cathartic it had been for her too. 

It was almost annoying how much it was making Natalie smile to watch her friend back in her natural environment. 

Her laptop was booting up as she watched Reagan when the front door chimed. Her shoulders she didn’t remember tensing up relaxed when she noticed Daryl. Apparently Beta’s transgression had bothered her more than she expected, though she was hoping it was more or less her highly paranoid instincts. 

Negan had insisted that Natalie and Daryl accompany Reagan to the bakery, so she wasn’t sure why she thought it would be anyone else. At least Negan had let it go and allowed her to come back to the bakery without much argument. He probably knew better than to believe he could deny her two days in a row anyway. And he also knew, just like Natalie did, that Daryl would die before he let anything happen to Reagan. Not that Negan would ever hope it would come to that, of course. 

Natalie might not be as vocal about it, but she liked the idea that Negan trusted her to keep on Reagan too. She could’ve gone to work, but then she would’ve been worried the entire time. It hadn’t been all that long, but clearly these people were slowly becoming her family. She wasn’t quite sure what to think about that yet, and right now she didn’t have the time to unpack it either. 

And it wasn’t like she minded this being her workspace for a bit. The glorious smell of freshly ground coffee was filling the shop, and Reagan was already hard at work packing up the day-old bread and other items to send to the soup kitchen down the street while she made fresh product for the day. 

Natalie didn’t even have to ask to know there was a custom breakfast sandwich and many other treats in her future. 

When she didn’t see Daryl out of the corner of her eye, she turned again. She felt a little uncomfortable with her back to the door, but she knew it was more important to be able to keep an eye on Reagan anyway. If Beta or anyone else came in and it scared her, Nataile would be able to tell right away. Her face was too easy to read. And she would’ve put her back to the window instead, but then the sun would’ve glared right off her screen, making it impossible to read. 

As much as she hated how exposed she was, this was better than sitting in the middle of the restaurant and being jostled by people all day. People were gross and they always made a habit of invading her personal space if she appeared too open. 

No matter what she did, she just looked too sweet to be mean. 

“You gonna do something besides stand there in the middle of the restaurant like some kind of weird henge?” she teased Daryl when he saw him finally. 

He furrowed his brow at the reference. “What’s a henge?”

“Those big standing stones,” she explained. “Like Stonehenge.”

She saw it click on his face, and he looked a little sheepish. “Gotcha,” he said nonchalantly, trying to act like he didn’t care that he hadn’t known. 

She giggled, but didn’t say anything else, since Reagan was coming back over with coffee. She set down a cup for Natalie, then clapped Daryl on the shoulder. 

“I need those big arms in the back,” she announced, raising her other hand and revealing an apron dangling from it. 

Daryl pursed his lips and looked at it skeptically for a moment. “What now?” he replied, making Reagan grin and sending Natalie into a fit of laughter. 

“I’m behind and I need help,” she explained. “When this place opens, I have to start taking orders. I need you to… well, knead,” she ordered, waving the apron at him. “Besides, if everyone sees you lurkin’ out here, it’s gonna get weird real fast. I love you, sweetie, but you have resting bitch face, all right? 

She disappeared behind the counter without another word as Natalie snorted and Daryl grimaced. “She’s right,” Natalie managed to say. “You do.”

She watched closely as the idea of refusing her clearly crossed Daryl’s mind, but in the end, even if Negan hadn’t been a factor, he couldn’t deny Reagan anything. She had that whole club wrapped around her finger. 

So he did the only thing he could do. He stood, took the apron from where it was laying on the counter now, picked it up, and stared at it curiously. 

He put it over his neck and then held up the unusually long ties. “How do I, uh…”

Natalie stood up to help him. “You loop them around the back and then the front,” she instructed as she did it, wheeling around him to tie it. “There. Like that.”

Before he could get away, she pulled out her phone. Daryl grimaced. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” Natalie answered archly, her voice far too high for that to be believable. 

“Uh-huh,” Daryl grunted. “Sure,” he said slowly. “Spit it out, woman.”

“What?” she murmured innocently, unable to stop herself from grinning again. “A girl’s gotta take some pictures. Ya know, for blackmail purposes.”

“No,” Daryl disagreed, turning to face her fully and crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at her, probably in an attempt to be menacing, when she didn’t lower her phone. “You already took them, didn’t ya?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” she said, “This is a video.”

He reached out for it and tried to swat it away, but she just giggled, wiggling effectively out of his grasp. 

“I’m just saving them for… a rainy day,” she explained. 

He growled at her, but she just smiled bigger. Finally, he turned to head behind the counter. Reagan swatted him playfully on the butt as he passed her. 

“Go get bakin’!” 

“Do I at least get coffee?” he grumbled. 

“There’s some on the station already. Just the way you like it,” Reagan offered. “And the first blueberry bagel outta the oven has your name on it. Okay?”

That familiar, slightly dopey, and totally endearing smile graced his face as Natalie watched them interact. “Thank you, Reagan,” he said, giving her a kiss and then heading to the kitchen. 

For all his resistance, Natalie didn’t miss that once he was back there, he knew what he was doing. He took a big gulp of coffee, shook his tight muscles out, and started kneading. 

It suddenly occurred to Natalie that the whole apron thing might have been a ruse. It was possible, though not probable, that he had been flirting with her in some small, subtle way. Not probable because Daryl Dixon didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be subtle. About anything. Ever. 

She gnawed on her lower lip as she chewed over the idea anyway, drinking her first cup of coffee faster than she meant to because she was distracted. She could hear Reagan somewhere else in the restaurant, so she felt oddly okay with watching him like this. 

But right on cue, Reagan appeared out of nowhere with the pot to refill her cup. “Whatcha thinking ‘bout?”

Natalie tried to readjust herself to make it less obvious, but Reagan still followed her line of sight and saw Daryl at the end of it.    
  
“Oh, really now?” 

Reagan wiggled her eyebrows at Natalie suggestively, but Natalie just rolled her eyes. Besides, she wasn’t getting out of the conversation she knew Reagan was avoiding that easily. Not after what she’d seen at the clubhouse that morning. 

Not a chance in hell. 

“Uh, I was actually thinking about that kiss this morning.”

Reagan’s eyes grew large. “You and…” She motioned between Natalie and Daryl, but all Natalie could do was scoff. 

“Not me and him, dork. You and Negan.”

“You saw that, did you?” Reagan said, straightening back up and pretending to clean the already spotless counter. 

“Girl, that kiss was, like, romance novel worthy and you fucking know it.”

“Umm…”

“Everybody saw it too. He dipped you, dude. I’m pretty sure the ends of your hair touched the floor,” Natalie continued, giggling slightly. 

“Yeah,” Reagan said dreamily, stopping her movements and staring off into space. 

Natalie pretended to gag. “Ugh, you guys are so gross. If you weren’t my friend, I wouldn’t be able to stand it. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Reagan winked at her. “And I appreciate it.” She paused as Natalie raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate. “What?” Reagan laughed. “We had sex and we’re going out tonight. That what you wanted to know?”

“Oh my God, woman. You are so underselling it,” Natalie groaned. “You had sex? The one thing you’ve been dreaming about for, like, a decade or whatever. And I get nothin’?”

“Dreaming about it,” Reagan said, scoffing a little too loudly for it to be real. Natalie just stared at her, a deadpan expression on her face. “Fine. But what do you want, a play-by-play?”

“Uh, no thank you. Negan is basically my boss. But you gotta at least tell me if it was good. That way I know how to respond.”

“I, uh, made him do it again this morning before we got up, so yes. Yes, it was,” Reagan admitted with a contented smile. 

“Oh, please. Like you had to twist his arm or something.”

“Well, no,” Reagan said, averting her eyes and blushing furiously. “He was, um, ready before he got up.”

“Get it, girl.”

Natalie held her hand out for a high five, which Reagan returned with a giggle when she noticed. The door chimed again and before Natalie could say another world, Reagan pushed away from the counter quickly. She left her mug behind, but her usual greeting died quickly on her lips, making Natalie whip her head around. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly as Reagan retreated. 

A quick glance to the side confirmed that Daryl was already heading their way. Even with the apron and his arms dusted with flour, it was clear from his gait that he was not to be fucked with. 

She reminded herself not to say too much. Beta would expect them to be rude to him because that was always their reaction, but he didn’t know they were aware he was responsible for what had happened to Reagan. She knew Negan and the others had met about it last night, but not knowing what they had decided meant she was to keep her mouth shut. 

Every little thing was an advantage in this situation and she wasn’t about to give an ounce to Beta. 

“Just came in to get a bagel, ladies,” Beta said easily. “Daryl, is it?” he asked, speaking directly to him. “Good to see you again.”

“Nothin’s ready yet,” Daryl grunted. “Gonna have to come back later. Or, ya know, don’t.”

Reagan was frozen where she stood behind the counter, but Daryl was close enough for her to reach out and grab, should that become necessary, so Natalie felt as good as she could, given the situation. 

Natalie watched, fairly frozen herself, as Daryl walked forward easily and put a hand on Reagan’s shoulder. “Stuff to take care of in the back,” he said quietly. 

She nodded and left, clearly relieved to have some sort of task to perform that didn’t require her to be around Beta. 

There was an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air as Daryl and Beta stared each other down, neither saying a word. Natalie stayed still and silent, as if she was caught between two apex predators. She was squeezing the chair she was sitting in so hard her knuckles were turning white as she waited for something, anything, to happen. 

After a moment, Beta blinked and relented. “Well, since nothing is available at the moment, I’ll just grab breakfast somewhere else. Perhaps I’ll be back later, though.”

“Don’t bother,” Daryl growled. “I’ll be here all day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Beta replied smoothly. 

He turned, not giving Natalie a second glance, and strode confidently back out the door. 

After making sure he wasn’t coming back, Daryl went to get Reagan. She came back out, looking a little shaken, but okay enough. Her first batch of baked goods was also done, so she had something to keep her hands busy. 

Daryl came out to check on her next. “You okay?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Yeah. Bastard didn't come here for me,” Natalie pointed out. 

Daryl shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t bother ya,” he countered. 

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Get back to helping Regan so she actually has something to sell to people who aren’t  _ him _ .”

She forced a smile at him, and he hesitated, clearly able to tell, but ultimately he let it go before he headed back to his workstation for the day. 

For a few hours, they were all busy. Daryl kneaded, Reagan baked, and Natalie wrote. Towards the end of the breakfast rush, Reagan dropped off Natalie’s sandwich, but she was too busy to talk. A part of Natalie wondered if this wasn’t intentional since she knew it couldn’t have been easy to see Beta so soon after everything that had happened. 

It ended up taking Natalie the rest of the morning to get through one script, which was the slowest she’d gone in a while, but given she was all up in her head, it wasn’t too much to be concerned about either.

When she shut her laptop and sighed around one in the afternoon, she wasn’t entirely surprised, but also not exactly pleased, to see Daryl holding two plates. 

“Join ya for lunch?” he asked. 

Reagan was busy working behind the counter, and she had just closed her laptop, so she didn’t have a ready excuse. She shrugged and gestured for him to sit, which he did, setting her plate in front of her. Then he nudged her with his foot under the table. 

“What’s got ya lookin’ all cloudy, Nat?” he wondered. 

She didn’t mean to answer, but she’d been stewing in it for too long now to have a filter. It just popped out. “I was just wondering if Charming was the best decision for me,” she admitted. 

She was thankful Reagan was too busy to hear her or even really pay attention right now. She loved that woman already, she really did, and if she had to leave her, it would hurt. Which is what had brought the idea to the forefront to begin with. Reagan was going to stay in Charming for the rest of her life, Natalie had no doubt, and if this situation was going to affect Natalie like this, she didn’t know if she could handle it. 

Daryl, however, didn’t seem all that disturbed by her revelation. He just shrugged and took a big bite of his sandwich, swallowing hard. “Because of Beta? He’ll be gone soon, one way or another.”

She sighed. She had brought it up. She might as well explain. 

“When I was in L.A., Daryl, I had my guard up all the damn time,” she started. “It was exhausting. But necessary. It was even good, in its own way. Here, I let my guard down. I didn’t react at all the way I should have when Beta came in this morning. I just… froze. That’s not a reaction I have ever had before, ya know? I should’ve yelled, caused a scene, literally anything. And I just sat there. If you hadn’t been here this morning, what? The two of us were just gonna handle it?”

Daryl nodded. “I get it. You deserve to relax, though, Nat. And you don’t have to react like that anymore either. I’m here. The club’s here. Part of the deal is we take care of all that shit for you. We know what comes with being involved with the club.”

Natalie bristled at the assumption. “I don’t need a man to take care of me, Daryl. And if that’s the expectation while I’m here, then I definitely don’t belong.”

Daryl stared at her, clearly taken aback. He set down his sandwich, obviously trying to compose himself enough to answer. But Natalie wasn’t interested in hearing anything he had to say. So she stood up. Not even sure where she was headed. 

“I’m, uh, gonna go help Reagan in the kitchen. She looks swamped.”

There wasn’t another soul in sight, so Daryl knew she was lying, which was why a dark look crossed his face as she left him sitting there alone.    
  
But she took comfort in Reagan’s smile as she appeared to be her assistant and pushed it all to the back of her mind for now. 

She could deal with the repercussions later. 


	23. breathe me

Reagan clung to Negan’s side as he walked her out to his bike. Their fingers were entwined, but they’d been like that since she’d made it back to the clubhouse. 

She took a deep breath of fresh air and sighed dramatically. “Oh my God, that’s amazing. I thought you were never gonna let me out of that clubhouse.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You went to work today, Sunshine,” he reminded her. 

“With an escort,” she corrected, pouting and then winking at him as he held the bike steady so she could get on the back first. 

“Daryl’s not so bad,” he said as he watched her put her hair back so she could slip on the helmet. “Heard you had him doing all the bakin’ for you anyway.”

She put a hand to her chest as she feigned a shocked expression. “How dare you? He kneaded some stuff, but I bake all my own products, sir.”

She giggled as he smirked, strapping on his own helmet and getting on in front of her. “Well, now _I’m_ your escort,” he drawled. “No being outta my sight all night, okay?”

“All right, all right,” she agreed quickly, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Where are we goin’ anyway?” 

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically. “And if you’re a good girl,” he added, “I just might knead that sweet little ass later.”

She snorted and smacked him on the shoulder from behind. “Negan! Oh my God. You are so gross!” 

“And you love it,” he said, revving his bike to life. “Hang on, Sunshine. Here we go.”

She put her cheek to his back and held on tighter as they took off. He certainly enjoyed having her so close, but he had to reach down and move her hands back up when they ventured a little too low for his taste. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it. In fact, that was the problem. His main focus, at least on the bike, had to be keeping her safe, and if she kept that up, he would need to pull over soon. 

She was a spitfire. He’d always known that, of course, and it was lovely to see it directed at him, but she was dangerous too. In the best way. 

After this morning at her bakery, he was a little surprised she was this frisky, but he wasn’t about to bring that shit up. When he moved her hands for the third time away from his belt, he felt the giggle reverberate through her and into his back, making him shake his head. 

He’d honestly been a little afraid with Beta showing up again, especially so soon, that she’d get back in her head about everything, but the reverse had been true. Even with Daryl there, he knew it was going to bother her. But maybe Natalie had helped her through it before they’d even gotten off work. She was turning out to be the exact kind of friend Reagan needed, and Negan couldn’t be more grateful for her presence if he tried. 

He could also tell Daryl wasn’t complaining either. 

Either way, he wanted to do something ridiculous and fun that would take her mind off everything swirling around them for a bit. There wasn’t a lot to do in Charming when it came down to it, but every small town had a bowling alley, and that was right where they were headed. 

And tonight happened to be glow bowling. 

He wouldn’t admit it to her, but it gave him a killer headache. He knew she loved it, though, and he was more than happy to down a few painkillers later to show her a good time now. She certainly deserved it. Especially if she was going to be his. 

As he parked and shut off the bike, he could feel her bouncing with excitement behind him. “Glow bowling?” she asked with a squeal. 

He put down the kickstand and then swung his leg off, unbuckling both their helmets and stashing them away before he helped her off too. “Excited, baby?”

She nodded, but then her face got serious. “Wait. I thought you hated glow bowling?” 

He shook his head and kissed her temple, slinging an arm around her shoulders as he led them inside. “I don’t hate it,” he assured her. “Besides, I wanted to make you happy.”

“Negan…” she began to protest. 

She lifted her chin and gazed up at him. Her smile was worth an entire night of neon color and black lights, that was for sure. “Hush,” he demanded sweetly. “You can thank me later.”

He ended his promise with a wink and she laughed. 

“Oh, I will,” she said, giving him a smirk back. 

“I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

He smiled wide as they both sauntered inside. He blinked into the darkness, letting his eyes adjust, before he headed to the counter and paid for several games, two pairs of shoes, a large mushroom pizza, and two sodas. 

Reagan skipped ahead of him as soon as they got to the lane to grab a neon purple ball. “It’s my lucky one,” she announced happily. “I’m gonna cream you.”

He chuckled as he shed his leather jacket, leaving his kutte on over his t-shirt. The white patches glowed brightly under the black light, just like her dress. “I’ll cream you later,” he muttered. 

“Ew, Negan!” 

She wrinkled her nose, but she’d clearly enjoyed the joke, and as long as she was laughing, he was going to keep telling them. 

They started to play, neither of them particularly good, but both having a blast. And that was the only thing that mattered to him right now. He let her sit in his lap while he kept score so she could keep him honest. It didn’t hurt that she kept wiggling playfully, which, in his opinion, was its own form of cheating, but he wasn’t going to tell her that or make her stop. 

He adjusted himself the next time he had to stand up, though, then leaned back down to whisper in her ear. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to bowl with a boner?” he growled playfully. 

She perked an eyebrow at him and then licked her lips as she looked toward his crotch. “I may have an idea, yes.”

“Minx,” he accused. He still managed a strike and came to sit down next to her, kissing her cheek. “Or maybe it’s my good luck charm,” he decided. 

“Well, then I guess I better stop,” she said archly, standing to take her turn. 

He smirked. “Joke’s on you, Sunshine. I get a boner just lookin’ at you.”

“You’re so romantic, Negan,” she teased, managing a strike for herself too. 

Their pizza came shortly after they started their second game, with Reagan winning the first. They ate between turns and eventually Negan came out on top. The last game was a narrow victory for Reagan, and as Negan carried her out of the bowling alley bridal style, grinning at her as she laughed happily, he knew it didn’t get better than this. 

“Do I get to claim my spoils now?” she purred, leaning in to kiss his neck. 

“If the spoils are my dick, then yes.”

She giggled gleefully as he placed her gently on the back of his bike again and then started it quickly after getting on himself. He wasn’t going to be able to take much more. 

“Then take me home, Mr. President. I want dessert,” she whispered in his ear conspiratorially. 

Home. 

He could get used to this. 

* * *

Negan laughed loudly as Reagan shoved him back onto the bed after locking the door behind them. When she went for his belt this time, he didn’t stop her. It had taken all his strength earlier to resist, and he knew better than to believe he could do it again. 

While she worked on his pants, he shed his kutte and t-shirt quickly, knowing he wouldn’t be needing them for the rest of the night. He fell back on the bed as she tugged off the rest of his clothes, then laid down between his legs and took him in her mouth. 

“Shit, Reagan,” he groaned. 

His head fell back onto the pillows as more expletives spilled from his mouth. When he felt like he could, he lifted his head just enough to glance down at her. She was gazing up at him as she bobbed her head, her waves of red hair tickling his thighs. 

He reached down with both hands, pulling her hair back and away from her face. She squirmed, clearly excited by the action. 

“Want me to show you how I like it, Sunshine?” he murmured in a barely audible whisper. 

She nodded, humming her assent around his aching cock, and he nodded back. He gripped her hair harder and started to move her head, going slowly at first to let her adjust. When she proved to be more than up to the task, he started to move her faster, bucking his hips slightly when he couldn’t take it anymore. 

He groaned loudly again as he heard her sucking him hard, and could feel her breasts bouncing between his thighs against his full balls. Every single thing about her was incredibly arousing and he knew he’d never be able to get enough. No matter how many times he was with her. 

He pulled her mouth off him suddenly, letting her catch her breath. She wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking it gently, licking the tip. “You want me to stop?” she asked with a slight pout to her lower lip, her voice insanely seductive. 

He chuckled roughly, almost deliriously. “Not really, but I also don’t want this night to be over just a few minutes from now.”

She giggled quietly. “That’s okay. I wanna make you come.”

“I wanna make you come too,” he countered. 

“That can be arranged.” She winked and sat up on her knees, shedding her dress, panties, and bra in one swift motion. 

“Damn, girl.”

“What?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders. “I haven’t, uh, been with anyone in a long time. Sue me.”

He smirked. “No thanks. I think I’ll just fuck that sweet little pussy instead.”

She moaned loudly at his words and then crawled back on top of him. He moaned when he felt how wet she already was, and then again when she lifted herself and sank back down. “Mmm… Negan…” 

When she was seated comfortably, he sat up, wrapping his arm around her while she wrapped her legs around his waist and they began to move together. He kissed her over and over, listening to her excited gasps get more and more frequent. 

As she got louder, he moved his mouth down to her breasts, concentrating on each as best he could. But he was close, and he wanted her to be done before he was. 

Luckily, it didn’t take much more. Soon she was crying out his name as she finished, and he was holding her hips down as he finished inside her for the second, or was it third, time in the last few days. Then he collapsed back onto the bed, taking her with him, cradling her against his chest. 

She grew quiet after a few minutes as he ran his fingers through her hair. Her breathing started to get more even. 

“Reagan?” he murmured, glancing down at her face. 

“Hmm?” she asked in a groggy tone. 

He laughed softly as he realized she was basically asleep already. Not that he blamed her. She’d gotten up extremely early, worked all damn day, and then tired herself out to go on a date with him. 

He knew he’d have to work on getting that schedule worked out better, though right now it was hard to find anything to complain about. But he also knew just sleeping in the same bed with her and being able to hold her close was more than enough for him. 

He pulled the blankets up over them both and shut his eyes too, not bothering with clothes for either of them as he drifted off to sleep.


	24. the one where natalie gets high

Daryl blew out a harsh breath and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into his office. He thought he was done for the day, just given the sheer amount of errands he’d run, but he never knew what kind of shit he’d walk into it when he read his e-mails. 

There always seemed to be a fire to put out. 

Then again, with Natalie here, it never did seem quite as bad. If anything, she made him look forward to work everyday. Even something as simple as a walk through before heading out made him giddy because he knew he was bound to run into her typing away in some corner of the set somewhere. 

Tonight, he reasoned, might be the night he asked her out. 

Or not. He knew himself. He wasn’t going to work up the courage to ask her out, especially given that she had all but said she was leaving as soon as possible. Maybe she hadn’t said it exactly like that, but it certainly felt like it, and he hadn’t been able to shake it since the other day. 

Maybe eventually, though. Like in five years, when he was sure she wasn’t going to just peace out on him one day and had put some of that baggage behind her. Not that he didn’t think she wasn’t allowed to have it, but he wasn’t interested in the type of thing that only lasted for a little while. And if Charming was just a blip on her larger career map, he had no interest in being something she struggled to forget. 

It was just his cautious nature. 

He sat and quickly flicked through his e-mail, happy when there was nothing new, before he stood up and tried shaking the tension out of his shoulders. He grabbed his stuff, checking behind him with a quick scan of the room as he locked the door and finally headed out for his walk through. 

For the most part, he kept his eyes down as he wove his way past all the sets. It wasn’t like he’d never seen porn before or something, but being around people filming it was a unique experience, and kind of awkward. All he was truly interested in was making sure everything was running smoothly anyway. Not that they couldn’t just call him if anything happened, but it always felt better to deal with things sooner rather than later. 

Once he got home for the night, he rarely wanted to leave. 

He made it back to the lounge area eventually and got ready to head out the door when he heard giggling coming from the couch. It sounded just like Natalie, which was weird. He honestly couldn’t remember a time he’d heard her giggle. Not like that, anyway. Laugh, maybe, but not giggle. 

Curious, he leaned over to check and couldn’t help the smile that spread when he saw her there. She was laying on her back and holding half of a giant brownie in one hand. 

“Daryl! Daryl! Oh my God, Daryl!” she squealed. “You  _ have _ to try this brownie, dude. It’s  _ so _ good. One of the girls said it would help me relax, and she. was. right. Chocolate makes Natalie very relaxed.”

She held it out to him to inspect and he sniffed it cautiously. Then the smile got bigger as he bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Nat, where’d you get this?”

She shrugged, then flopped her arms back over her head. “I dunno,” she murmured. “Someone said it was from downstairs. Testers or something.”

“Uh-huh.” Daryl nodded. “From downstairs. Where the weed is.”

“Oh my God, Daryl!” Natalie shot up on the couch, put her hands on either side of his face, and gave him a very serious look. “Am I high?”

She started giggling as he nodded. “I think so, Nat. You, uh, ever been high before?”

“Nope. Nope nope nope nope. Don’t do drugs,” she admonished him. “Drugs are bad. Did ya know that, Daryl?”

He chuckled finally, unable to help himself. “They can be. Yeah. Weed’s not so bad, but you had, uh, quite a lot, judging by the size of this.”

“Can I finish it?” she asked, reaching for it. “It’s  _ so _ good.”

He held it out of her reach. “No,” he answered decisively. “No way. You’ve had plenty.”

“Fine,” she said, slumping back onto the couch and crossing her arms. “Time to go home, I guess. I’ll get some dinner on the way. Oohh. Pizza. Oh, and hamburgers. Oh, and I need to see Reagan.  _ She’ll _ have brownies I can eat.”

Daryl laughed. “Yeah, I bet she does. But you can’t drive, Nat,” he countered. “I’ll take you home, though, and get you all the stuff you want, okay? Then I’m gonna make sure you don’t do anything stupid tonight. How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” she said. 

Daryl reached out for her hand, but she laid back down on the couch and put her feet in the air instead. He noticed her shoes had been discarded and he smirked as she wiggled her toes. 

“I like hanging out with you.” She glanced at him. “Have you noticed how weird toes are? Look.” She wiggled her toes at him some more. “See. Weird.”

“Yes, very weird,” Daryl agreed. 

He moved around the couch, realizing that finding her things first was probably going to be easier. Most of it was scattered around, like it always was, but he just shoved it into her purse and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed her shoes and slipped them onto her feet, still high in the air, and then reached down to take both of her hands in his and pull her up. 

“Whoa!” she giggled, flopping forward and putting her head on his shoulder. “Too fast, biker boy.”

He chuckled low and shook his head. “That wasn’t fast, Nat. But I’ll be more careful, okay?

“Mmhmm.”

He bent down and lifted her into his arms when he noticed standing wasn’t going to be happening anytime soon, carrying her out bridal style into the parking lot. Thankfully, she had her car there, because there was no way in hell he would’ve trusted her on the back of his bike like this. 

One he got her into the back, he backed out of the parking lot slowly. He hated leaving his bike somewhere that wasn’t home, but he didn’t have a choice today. Besides, everyone knew to leave it alone or there would be literal hell to pay, so he wasn’t worried. 

But he still didn’t like it. 

As he drove through town, she sang and talked to herself in the backseat, needing very little input from him, waving her hands and feet in the air occasionally. He hit the pizza place first, picked up a couple of pies, went through another drive-thru for hamburgers, and then headed to the bakery. 

“I’ll be right back,” he announced as he parked outside. 

He wasn’t sure it was all that wise to leave her in the car alone, but he didn’t really want to turn heads as he lugged her inside. 

“Don’t, uh, go anywhere, okay?”

She nodded in agreement, still sipping her strawberry shake he’d gotten her from the burger place. Maybe, he thought, it would occupy her enough to keep her from leaving. Unless, of course, a puppy ran by or something. 

He groaned out loud at the thought, wanting to go back, but reasoning he’d be as quick as he could. 

He slipped into the bakery and was glad to find it mostly empty. In fact, the only patron was Negan, though that didn’t surprise him in the least. 

“Hey, boss. Hey, Reagan. Umm, I just need a bunch of sweet shit Natalie might like,” he admitted. 

“Ohhh.” Reagan arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Daryl felt himself blush as Negan smirked out of the corner of his eye. “Not for the reason you clearly think. She, uh…” He laughed and then grinned at Reagan. “She accidentally ate a pot brownie at work and now she has the munchies. We’ve already got burgers and pizza in the car.”

Negan guffawed as he looked out the large windows in front of Reagan’s store toward Natalie’s car. “Way to go, man. You turn your back for five seconds and ya girl is high as a kite. Good job.”

“I didn’t…” 

“You leave him alone,” Reagan interrupted, already filling a bag with a little bit of everything she had in stock. “I won’t make you drag her in, but I demand at least one video of high Natalie.” 

“No,” Daryl answered, shaking his head and scuffing his toe against the tiled floor. “She’d kill me.”

“She sure as shit would,” Negan agreed. “But Reagan’s right. You gotta do it, man. It’s not fair to keep that shit to yourself.”

Daryl just laughed quietly and held out his hand as Reagan shoved the bag into it. He went to grab his wallet when Reagan shook her head vehemently. “Uh, no. It’s on me. And call me if you need any help, okay?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine once I get her home, but thanks. I’ll let ya know.” He smiled at her and rushed back outside again, Negan’s laughter following him all the way to the door. 

He put the bag in the front seat next to all their other goodies and Natalie sat up and eyed them, pulling it open to look. “Ohhhhh. Reagan gave us the good stuff.” 

“She did,” Daryl agreed. “Home now, okay?”

She nodded and flopped back in the seat again, still somehow sipping her shake. He was shocked she had managed not to get any on her at all. On a good day that girl would have food all over her shirt, but when she was high she was clearly some kind of contortionist, capable of keeping it all in the cup. 

_ Go figure _ . 

As they drove, she kept trying to roll down the window and get out of the car, but somehow the child locks had been engaged so he didn’t have too much to worry about. And it wasn't long before they were pulling up in her garage. 

He left her in the backseat and took all the food inside first, then helped her up and deposited on one of the couches in her living room, right in front of the TV. He stashed the bagels and the bread in her kitchen, saving them for tomorrow, and then brought everything else to the living room. 

She was already flipping through the channels, landing on something he didn’t recognize pretty quickly. “Ohh! This one. I love this show. It’s so good.”

Daryl raised a skeptical eyebrow as the credits rolled. “Why is that one guy covered in chalk?” he wondered out loud, laughing when he saw the title finally. “ _ Teen Wolf _ ? Nat, really? Is… is it like the movie from the ‘80s?” 

“You be quiet. It is my guilty pleasure. But I am very happy you know a corny movie from a million years ago.”

“I’m not that old,” he grumbled, sitting on the couch beside her. 

He handed her a burger and some fries, taking his own out and settling into the couch. He wasn’t sure what this show was about at all, and the longer he watched it, the less questions it answered. But she seemed to be enjoying herself, so this was what they were going to watch until she decided on something else. 

“Okay, uh, you gotta catch me up here,” he requested when he couldn't take it anymore. 

He also liked the sound of her voice, and she was being especially adorable when she was high, so it was slightly selfish on his part too. Though he’d never say it to her. 

“Oh, I have no idea,” she admitted freely, taking a huge bit of her burger and then shoving a few fries in her mouth too. “It’s so entertaining, though. And, like, everyone is uncomfortably hot.”

“Uh, most of them are teenagers,” he reasoned 

“All of the not teenagers are hot,” she clarified with a roll of her eyes. 

Daryl laughed and shrugged, watching quietly as they ate. Every once in a while, she would throw in a tidbit that she could remember at him, but otherwise he just tried to follow the nonexistent plot. 

“See, Derek’s whole family was burned alive by his fake werewolf hunter girlfriend, so he has, like, some serious issues,” she said in between bites. “And that is Derek’s hot uncle. He’s kind of a jerk, but in sort of an endearing way.”

A few more minutes passed in silence before she pointed to the screen and looked at him with wild eyes. “Did you see that?”

“What?” 

“The subtext? Subtext everywhere. I  _ love _ subtext. Especially gay subtext. I also love when the writers try to pretend they had no idea. They know.” She leaned in close to his face again, taking it in her hands. “We always know.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as she put another fry in her mouth, never breaking eye contact, and then turning slowly back to the screen. None of the shit she said made any sense, but he didn’t mind. 

Eventually, they’d made their way to the end of their mini-marathon, and the burgers and pizza, and quite a few baked goods Reagan had sent along. 

“Oh my God, I’m so full,” Natalie said, yawning and leaning her head onto his shoulder again. 

Daryl chuckled and turned off the TV. “Why don’t we go to bed, huh?”

She yawned again and nodded. “Okay.”

He carried her to bed first, not thinking for one second she’d stay there, but sending up a prayer he was wrong. Then he went back to the kitchen and tidied up, bringing her bag back to see she hadn’t moved an inch. Not even to take off her jacket or shoes. 

Thankfully, she was wearing leggings, so he wouldn’t need to completely undress her to get her comfortable enough to sleep. Instead, he worked on getting her jewelry off. 

As he put the last bit away on her dresser, she mumbled, “I’m sorry, Daryl.”

When she didn’t continue, he frowned and sat down beside her, smoothing out her wild blonde hair. “For what? Eatin’ a pot brownie?” he whispered. “Ain’t no big deal. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

“No, for…” 

She swallowed hard and looked at him. Her eyes were more focused than they’d been hours before, but he wasn’t sure if she was in the right state of mind for whatever conversation she was cooking up. 

“For being so closed off,” she finally finished. “I like you, Daryl. I really do. But… I can’t do that again. I had so many bad experiences in L.A. It’s even why I left. My ex… he was… a little clingy. To put it mildly. Kinda scary. I keep… waiting for him to show up. I don’t like that feeling.”

Daryl wasn’t totally surprised by her admission about the ex, especially given the way she’d talked to Reagan after what had happened to her, but he was floored by the fact that she had come right out and said she liked him. How exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he could guess. Or dream, depending on how you saw the situation they now found themselves in. 

He was sorely tempted to get her to clarify, to ask for more information, but fishing while she was high felt wrong. And it wasn’t a low he was willing to stoop to. Not with her. 

However, just listening while she rambled was okay. There was probably still a line he was crossing, but if she needed to get it out, he wasn’t going to be the one to stop her either. 

“He wasn’t, like, a total stalker,” she explained. “But he just… wouldn’t listen. Especially when I told him no. And if he shows up here, I don’t know what would happen. He, uh, he…” 

Her voice filtered off into nothingness and he knew better than to prompt her. He also didn’t really need her to anyway. He got the gist. And he wasn't about to deny it made him angry. 

“You know no one’s gonna let anything happen to you, right?” he promised softly. “Even Reagan would throw hard bread rolls or something if someone tried to hurt you.”

She smiled as she turned and curled up on one of her pillows. “Yeah. Thanks, Daryl.”

Then without another word, she was asleep. He nodded once to himself and then headed back out into the hallway. He left the door cracked just enough that he would hear her if she needed him. As much as he wanted to stay in there with her, and tried to reason it was safer, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. And it seemed pretty creepy without an explicit invitation. 

Instead, he decided to head back to the living room and finish cleaning up. Then he made his way into the kitchen and even did some laundry for her since her basket was overflowing. 

As he was walking back to her room to check on her, he frowned as he heard the telltale clack of her keyboard. He knocked lightly, shaking his head and smiling to himself when she told him to come in. 

He did as he was told and leaned against the wall, just watching her for a second. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he accused playfully. 

She lowered her screen slightly so just her eyes were visible over the top. “But I had a really good idea for a script,” she said seriously. 

“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”

“Like, totally amazing. It’s gonna be incredible.” 

He walked closer, holding out his hand. “Give me the laptop, Nat. You’re still high and you need sleep. I guarantee whatever you write is not gonna be good right now.”

“Aw, come on!” she protested loudly, folding her arms again as she whined. 

He shook his head firmly in return. “Gimme it.”

She paused, clearly contemplating arguing some more, but eventually she gave a big dramatic huff and shut her laptop before handing it over to him. He stowed it under his arm and then she let him tuck her back in. 

He carried the laptop back to the kitchen and placed it safely on the island, knowing if she tried to sneak back out for it, he’d at least catch her. 

After a few more minutes of fighting with himself about whether or not to stay at all, he decided to crash on the couch. They had a run tomorrow night, and he couldn’t afford to be doing that on no sleep. He was way too old for that shit. 


	25. honey

Daryl woke when the sun started to peek through the curtains near his head, and it took him a full ten minutes for him to realize where he had ended up. When he sat up and looked around, a small smile played on his lips for a few minutes.  
  
Last night had been both eye-opening and downright hilarious. As mad as he knew Reagan and Michonne would be at him for not recording any of the nonsense, he had known from the beginning he wasn’t capable of betraying Natalie’s trust like that, so they’d just have to deal. Them being mad was not as bad as Natalie not believing he could take care of her. 

After a few more minutes of replaying the night before in his head, he stood up and shuffled to the kitchen to put on the coffee, grabbing Reagan’s bag of bagels and taking the cream cheese out of the fridge. 

As he spread honey cream cheese on a blueberry bagel, he opened her laptop out of sheer curiosity to see what she had gotten into last night with that script. He’d been dying to do it right afterward, but he’d desperately needed sleep.   
  
As he started to read, he couldn’t stop laughing. She was going to be mortified, but hopefully not mad at him for peeking. “Holy hell, girl,” he muttered to himself. 

“What?” Natalie replied. 

He looked up and spotted her in the doorway and he smiled again, this time much bigger. Her hair was messed up, and her eyes were dry and red, but she was still gorgeous. Like she could help that, though.

“I got coffee on, and Reagan sent us home with bagels. Remember?” She shook her head as he grabbed her a bottle of water out of the fridge and added, “I was just readin’ the amazing idea you had last night. Remember tellin’ me about it?”

She shook her head again and groaned. “No.” She looked around and then back to him. “What the hell happened last night?”  
  
“Well,” he said, swallowing another bite of his bagel, “you ate a giant pot brownie at work and got totally high. Then I brought you home after we got burgers and pizza and even some stuff from Reagan’s. All your requests, by the way. And then we came back to your place and you made me watch the entirety of _Teen Wolf_ , I’m pretty sure.”

She grimaced, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Oof. Sorry about that. That show is _bad_ , as much as I love it.”

He chuckled. “It’s okay. You made it fun.”

“You let me write high?” she half-whispered. “Can… can I see it?”

He shook his head. “Hell no. This requires a dramatic reading.”

She groaned again, but he let her get herself some coffee and a bagel before he started. Then he cleared his throat as she sat down at the island next to him. “Ready?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. 

“Definitely not,” he corrected, looking to the screen. “Here we go.”

She tried to peek at the words, but he moved it until she couldn't see anymore. “ _The Hot Pizza Boy_ ,” he started, “by Natalie Sutter.”

“Oh no…” 

He grinned at her when she started to laugh already. “Oh yeah. Ahem. The woman orders pizza. The pizza boy brings the pizza. He is not really a pizza boy. He is a pizza man. A…” He snorted. “A hot pizza ass. Get it?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You actually typed the question, you dork.”

She laid her head down on the counter, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. 

“The pizza boy man ass is hot. Like really hot. Like a combination of Derek Hale and Daryl Dixon hot. The pizza boy probably has a huge penis because this is a porno. I hope not too huge because too huge is scary. Like no double digits please and thank you.”

“Stop, stop,” she cried, lifting her head and almost falling off her chair from laughing so hard. “My stomach hurts!” 

“There’s just two more lines,” Daryl promised, laughing so hard between words it was getting hard to see through the tears. “A tail pops out of the pizza boy’s shorts. The pizza boy is a werewolf.”

For a few minutes, they dissolved into a fit of laughter. When they finally quieted down and started to wipe the tears from their eyes, Natalie shook her head. 

“Well, that’s clearly the one I win an award for. My magnum opus, for sure,” she decided. 

“Magnum?” Daryl teased. “Like the condoms?”

“No! Ew!” she yelled, taking a bagel out of the bag and tossing it at him. 

He caught it smoothly. “Thanks. Blueberry is my favorite.”

He winked at her as she started to laugh again, though much quieter this time. Eventually, they fell silent, and he couldn’t deny it felt a bit more loaded than he was used to with her. 

“I do, uh, remember some of it,” she finally said. “I remember telling you about my ex.”

Daryl nodded and shrugged. “It’s okay. We don’t have to say anything else.”

“I just… I don’t know.”

“Natalie, do you remember what I said?” he asked, trying to deflect a bit. 

“Uh, kinda.”

“No one’s gonna hurt you here. And I know you hate bein’ vulnerable and all that shit, but it’s okay sometimes. Especially with family. I get that you’re not ready to see us as that yet. And I get it. But it’s too late. The guys love you. Michonne and Reagan love you. Hell, even Negan loves you, and he don’t love anybody. Except Reagan,” he tacked on quickly. “The point is, you’re kinda stuck with us. Even if you leave, okay?”

“What about you?” she asked quietly. 

“What, uh, what about me?”

She licked her lips and then bit her bottom lip, and he wondered what exactly was floating around in her head. Usually, she was so easy to read. Right now, it was impossible. Or maybe he just didn’t want to get his hopes up about what she might say next. 

“You said everybody loves me, but, uh, what about you?” she whispered, leaning in closer. 

Their knees were touching now, and one of hers was between his legs, making it very easy for her to lean in and kiss him, if that’s what she wanted to do. 

He swallowed hard as he stared at her lips and then back to her eyes as she waited for him to say something. “I, uh, like you too.”

She searched both his eyes a few times. “How much?”

His heart was hammering away in his chest as it hit him exactly what she was asking. It was made worse by the fact that he had no idea if he wanted to answer honestly. Or better yet, if _she_ wanted him to answer honestly. 

“Nat, I…” 

“Daryl,” she interrupted, “do you wanna kiss me?”

“Yes,” he whispered. 

“But you’re not going to, are you?”

He ducked his head slightly. “No.”

She sighed slightly, but he still heard it. Almost like she was frustrated with him, and he didn’t blame her. Natalie worked in definitives and he was anything but. She wanted proof and absolutes. He could offer neither. 

“I don’t like being vulnerable,” she said simply. “But I don’t mind it so much with you. And the shit I talked about last night, I can… get over it. Especially if there’s something here. And we can go slow, if that’s what you need. But I can’t do the clubhouse thing.”

He looked back up at her, his lips pursed. “That’s part of it, Nat. I can’t… take it off.”

“I can’t do the cheating,” she clarified. 

“Ah, I gotcha.” He scoffed. “I… don’t cheat. Not with anyone.”

She nodded. “Good.”

Then she stood up without another word, grabbed a bagel, and started back toward her bedroom. “I’m gonna go get ready for work.” 

“That’s it?” He smirked. 

“Did you need me to say more, Daryl Dixon?”

He chuckled. “No, ma’am.”

“Good,” she repeated, throwing him a wink before she headed for the shower. 

He sat there for a little while just going over her words, and his, as he also listened to the shower in the back of the house. As far as he could tell, he was pretty sure they were something. Or at least the idea that they could be something was there. 

He knew better than to get too in his head about it, but with Natalie it was harder than it should be. He wanted to do right by her, especially when it was clear no one else had. He wanted to be better than whatever fuckers had come before him because she deserved it. 

Daryl busied himself around the kitchen as he heard her get out, wondering what was going to happen next, and completely unable to keep the smile off his face as he realized how excited he was to find out. 

Last night’s little adventure had gone far better than he could have ever anticipated, that was for damn sure. 


	26. catch us if you can

Negan walked up and down the row of bikes, checking everyone’s stash personally. It was him that would be held accountable if anything was missing, and that certainly wasn’t how he wanted to end his run. It would cut into his time with Reagan, and that was now officially unacceptable. 

It wasn’t that he was worried, per se, since he knew she wouldn’t be completely unprotected while they were gone, and he wasn’t even going to be gone that long, but it made him uncomfortable to be separated from her now. And he wouldn’t have liked it under normal circumstances. The fact that Beta was still sniffing around made it worse. He hadn’t done anything else yet, but Negan had convinced himself that was just because he was hovering all the time. He could be waiting for his opportunity, and Negan being gone would give him that. 

He stopped by his bike finally, which was parked next to Rick’s, and gave him a nod. “Stock’s good. All we gotta do is get there. And back.”

“Easy ride,” Rick commented. “And you know there’s gonna be enough protection here.” He clapped Negan on the shoulder. “Besides, my wife is in charge. Since when has she let anything happen? She’s better at this than us. You know that.” Rick gave him a wink as he chuckled. “Just loosen up, man,” he instructed. “Enjoy the ride. Clear your head. Some perspective might do you good.”

“Got plenty of perspective,” Negan grunted, glancing in Reagan’s direction. 

Her hair was glinting red in the sun as she stood by the door of the clubhouse talking and laughing with Natalie. She had loaded them all up with sandwiches, bagels, and other treats a long time ago, and now she was just waiting to see them all off. Like she always did. Except it wasn’t like before. Now she was his. 

“My job is to keep her safe,” he finished, looking back to Rick. 

The other man sighed heavily in return. “I know. But you gotta relax sometimes.” He held up a finger as Negan went to protest, a knee jerk reaction. “And before you say anything, I know… you relax with Reagan. I don’t wanna hear about that, though. You need to relax in other ways too.” 

“Are… are you telling me that I have performance issues in that department?” Negan asked, chuckling darkly when Rick started to blush. “You’re a big, bad biker. The fact that you can’t talk about sex without blushing is fuckin’ weird, Grimes.”

But in a weird way, the entire conversation had made him feel better. He clapped Rick on the back too as Daryl wandered over to give his final report. 

“Everyone’s good. Nothin’ big that’ll get us in trouble if we get stopped. All legal and registered, if possible. But a few not in case shit goes down.”

Negan nodded and sighed. “You tellin’ me I don’t have any excuses not to leave now?” he grumbled. 

Daryl nodded with a slight smirk, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked to Natalie, still standing next to Reagan. 

Rick rolled his eyes. “Shit. Both of you need to get a fuckin’ grip.” He straightened as Michonne started to lead both women over to say goodbye. “Please don’t embarrass me, kids.”

Daryl made a huffing noise and Negan shook his head. “Like you got room to talk, Grimes. You still got doe eyes for ‘Chonne, and you’ve been married to that woman for, like, a million years. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Yeah, but she’s amazing…” he murmured, smiling and leaning in to kiss her as she arrived. 

“We don’t die, okay?” Michonne whispered, putting her forehead against Rick’s as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Rick replied, giving her a dopey grin. 

Negan would never say it out loud, but he thought it was unbelievably cute the way they talked and acted with each other. The world seemed to melt away and it was just the two of them. But Negan wasn’t allowed to think shit was cute, even if he did completely understand those feelings now. He was a grumpy old man who wore leather and rode motorcycles. Cute wasn’t supposed to be in his vocabulary. 

Reagan appeared in front of him suddenly, smiling softly and slipping her arms around his middle. “I’m gonna be fine,” she promised him. “I will sleep here. I won’t go anywhere alone, including the bakery. Natalie’s gonna be with me the whole time. And I will call you three times a day to check in,” she recited. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“You know you can’t say that to me, right? I’m gonna worry anyway.”

She laughed lightly. “I am well aware. But I have to say it. I have to let you know that I don’t expect you to spend all your time worrying about me.”

“Well, expect your ears to burn while I’m away,” he teased, though it still came out more seriously than he intended. “I’ll be worrying about you the whole time.”

“Your ears are only supposed to burn when someone’s  _ talking _ about you, Negan, not worrying about you,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “Well, I’m sure I’ll be runnin’ my fuckin’ mouth about it too, so…”

She giggled. “I’m sure they’ll love that.”

Reagan gazed up at him, smiling. She was so calm and self-assured. He preferred it to the alternative, of course. But he wanted to feel needed, as selfish as it was. 

“Is my handsome biker boyfriend gonna kiss me goodbye?” she purred, taking Negan by surprise. 

He didn’t say anything out loud, but he did bend down to kiss her, making it nice and sweet at first. But when her hands slid up and tangled in his hair, forcing him to kiss her harder, he lost all control. His own hands slipped down to grab her ass, lifting and turning her so she could sit on his bike. Then he slid a hand up her spine, taking his time before he made his way to her neck, finally tugging her head back by gripping her hair. 

Cheers and applause exploded around them as he bent her backwards over the bike and really laid it on her. He felt her get warmer as she flushed, and he knew she could feel him start to get hard against her, not a care in the world to how many people were watching them either. But it was that exact problem that made him finally break the kiss. He didn’t want to start this ride with a raging hard-on he wasn’t going to be able to take care of for at least two days. 

He picked her up again and set her back down on her feet, holding her waist while she swayed a bit. “We’ll pick up where we left off when I’m home,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. 

The hoots and hollers of the crowd finally dissolved into laughter with Michonne rolling her eyes as she slung an arm around Reagan’s shoulders and led her away. 

“Y’all are nasty,” she accused playfully. 

“Well, she’s right about that,” Rick agreed quietly, climbing on his bike. 

Negan smirked, adjusting himself before he sat down too. “Yeah. And I fuckin’ like it that way,” he admitted. 

Daryl, of course, could tell he was being watched and listened to, and was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Natalie didn’t seem to be faring that much better, though. 

“So, uh,” he finally said. “Bye?”

Natalie’s smile got bigger until she laughed. “That’s all I get, huh? Bye? Reagan gets a showstopper-end-of-the-movie, the-couple’s-finally-together kinda kiss and you say bye? Not even a proclamation, either. It’s a fucking question. That’s cute.”

He grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You want me to kiss you like that in front of all these people?”

Natalie wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Ew. No. Gross. You know me better than that, Daryl Dixon.”

“Yes. I do,” he admitted, giving her a wink. 

“Still,” Natalie said, stepping closer and poking him in the chest with a finger. “You have to do better than bye.”

He nodded. “All right. How about, be careful while I’m gone. Don’t go anywhere alone. Stay with Reagan. And…” he grinned wider. “And don’t eat any brownies from the porn stars.”

“I’m so done with you,” Natalie replied immediately, sticking her nose up in the air haughtily. 

Daryl laughed loudly and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Bye, Nat. Be back soon.”

“Bye, Daryl,” she grumbled. 

As he walked back to his bike, Jesus yelled, “Slow down, Dixon. At this rate, you’ll be proposing in ten years.”

Daryl flipped him off, sparking another round of laughter as he got on his bike and started it up, but even the laughter was soon swallowed up by the sound of a dozen or so bikes revving to life too. One by one, they rolled out of the parking lot, tightening into formation once they were on the road and disappearing into the horizon. 

* * *

Negan was tense for the first day of the ride, but when Reagan showed him she would check in like she said and nothing happened near the border of Charming, he did manage to loosen up just a little bit. They had made this ride hundreds of times in the past, and realistically, he could do it in his sleep, which he could’ve sworn had actually happened once or twice before. 

But they still made the delivery in record time. And the mood was easy along the way. Daryl endured a lot of teasing, of course, mostly at the hands of Jesus, but he took it all in stride. Aaron tried to get him to lay off a couple times, but he didn’t try all that hard. Clearly, Natalie was worth it to Daryl because he mostly kept quiet and rolled his eyes every once in a while. 

Negan knew it was time for ‘The Talk’ if it was getting this serious for Daryl, but that could wait until they got back. He’d never seen him like this before. Not with anyone. Or, he reasoned, maybe Rick or Shane could do it. It wasn’t like Negan was in a position to offer any advice. In fact, if he listened to him, Daryl might not propose for ten years, and he wasn’t sure Natalie would appreciate that too much either. 

When they had about an hour left, Negan allowed himself time to fantasize about Reagan and sleep in his own bed. They still had the whole Beta thing hanging over their heads, but he would figure that out soon enough. 

He always did. 

Suddenly, Negan felt a sting in his leg that jolted him out of his daydreams, though, and then he heard the shot. It hurt enough that he couldn’t keep his bike upright. He knew how to handle the situation, but his mind was clouded by the pain. Still, he managed to lay down his bike on his good leg, hoping the thick leather would be enough to save him. 

“Fuckin’ hell!” he yelled as the bike flew out from under him and he rolled onto the asphalt. 

He grunted, grinding his teeth together so he didn’t cry out in pain, hoping all the guys behind him weren’t about to run him the fuck over or get hurt themselves. 

When the dust cleared, they all seemed safe, so he let his head hit the ground as he concentrated on not passing out. He groaned once and then rolled over to his fallen bike to grab his gun, but when he raised it, he didn’t see a damn thing to shoot at. He knew what his guys were doing. They were blocking him, taking care of the problem themselves since he was already hurt. 

They had trained for this exact scenario, but he hated that it was necessary. He didn’t think he could cope if one of them got shot for him. 

He rolled onto his back and tried to look at his own wound. He could see the hole in his jeans and he could see blood, but as he felt the back of his leg for another hole, he noticed it wasn’t there. Clearly he wasn’t lucky enough for it to have been a simple through and through. It hadn’t hit anything majorly important, or he’d be dead already, but a bullet stuck in his damn leg wasn’t a good situation either. 

He wasn’t stupid. 

He gripped his jeans and tried to rip them, rolling his eyes when nothing happened. He hated that he had listened to movies on that one. Of course it was never that easy in real life. But he still needed to get these off if he hoped to get a good look at what was going on. 

“Whoa, boss,” Rick said, kneeling down beside him. “Stop fuckin’ with that.”

Then Aaron was at his other side, cutting open his jeans with the scissors from the first aid kit he hadn’t noticed he had grabbed. “How are you feeling, Negan?” 

Negan sighed, his head tipping back with exhaustion without his permission. “Not gonna lie, Aaron, feelin’ a little woozy.”

“How bad is it?” Daryl asked from somewhere nearby. 

Aaron shook his head. “Doesn’t look that bad from the outside, but the damn bullet’s still in there. I don’t have a fucking clue where it is or what it’s moving toward. And every time we move him, it could get worse,” he explained. “We have to get him back to the clubhouse, though. Now.”

“You and Jesus get him on the bike with the sidecar, unless you think you can keep him upright,” Daryl insisted. Aaron shook his head. “Okay, just get him back. Move him as little as possible. Start workin’ on him right away. Me and Rick will clean up this fuckin’ mess and meet you back there.”

Jesus nodded once and then started to pick up Negan gingerly, with Aaron hoisting him up on the other side. Negan grimaced and swore loudly as they walked him over to the sidecar he was really too big to get into. 

He tried to help, but his legs didn’t seem to be doing what his brain was telling them to do. 

“Hey, Aaron?” he asked. 

“Yeah, Negan?” Aaron replied as Jesus got the bike ready. 

“Why’s there two of you?” Negan muttered. 

Damn, his head was spinning like crazy and he couldn’t focus on any individual point in front of him. 

“Fuck.”

And just like that, that word was the last he heard before he completely passed out, blood streaming freely from his leg. All the noise of the engines and guns and bikers faded out as the blackness closed in. 


	27. hold on

“Do you think they’re almost here?” Reagan asked for the millionth time, standing on her tiptoes and peering down the road. 

Natalie sighed, her arms crossed, her hair blowing in her face while she waited too. And while she was very happy for her friend, and excited she could see Daryl again, after a few days of shadowing Reagan while Negan was gone, she was spent. She was on the verge of sedating the woman just so she’d relax for a few minutes. 

“You know,” Natalie explained patiently, “you’ll hear them before you see them, right? And if you just find something else to do inside that’s even mildly productive, the time is gonna pass a lot quicker.”

Reagan looked at Natalie and blinked, like he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “What?” 

Natalie smiled and shook her head as Reagan confirmed what she’d been thinking. She really hadn’t heard a word, but that was fine. She wasn’t going to right now. 

Instead of focusing on that, though, Natalie chose to concentrate on how adorable Reagan was being when she was all excited. She hadn’t known her that long, but it was obvious that she’d taken special care with her hair and her dress. Hell, even if she hadn’t done all that, the fact that she’d taken off work to greet him and spend the rest of the day with him was enough for literally anyone to see how she felt. 

“Nothing,” Natalie finally said, shaking her head again. “They should be here soon, huh?”

Reagan nodded, and the faraway look in her eyes told Natalie she was thinking about her lazy day in bed with Negan. Or not so lazy, depending on your viewpoint. She’d only been talking about it since he left, and despite Natalie’s insistence that she really didn’t want to know, Reagan had gone into great detail. She knew things about Negan that were going to make it hard to look him in the eye from now on. Including the fact that he was apparently very,  _ very _ good in bed. 

Not that she couldn’t have guessed that on her own. They weren’t exactly quiet, and in her experience, no man walked like that if he didn’t know what to do with his hips. Either way, Natalie knew if they were going to continue to hang out in the clubhouse, they might want to invest in some soundproofing equipment for his room. 

It was only fair to the rest of them. 

Then again, she doubted they’d live in the clubhouse for long. At the rate they were going now, they’d probably be married in about five seconds and then have a few kids. Which was great, in her eyes, because then the kids would keep her busy when Negan was away. Natalie wasn’t sure poor Reagan’s mental health could take much more of this without a legitimate distraction. 

She knew she didn’t count. 

The sound of motorcycles ripped through Natalie’s thoughts and Reagan lit up like a firework. Natalie clasped her hands together and mouthed a silent thank you to the heavens behind Reagan’s back, happy the agonizing separation was over. For now. 

But she quickly took the prayer back when the first few motorcycles rounded the corner. 

Jesus was driving and Aaron was riding behind him with a passed out Negan in the sidecar attached to his bike. Her eyes quickly flicked over all three of them, noticing blood on all their clothes. 

And there were far more on Negan’s, which didn’t bode well. 

She didn’t know what had happened, but she could tell by the way their faces were set in the most grim expressions it wasn’t great. For a moment, she was frozen, just like she had been that day in the bakery. 

“What happened to him?” Reagan screamed, fighting to be heard over the roar of the engines. She started to cry almost immediately. “Oh my God, is he okay?” She ran over to the bike as they tried to park. “Negan! Negan!”

Her shrill cries broke through Natalie’s fog. She refused to be useless again in yet another emergency. There was no Daryl here to save her this time, and Aaron and Jesus and everyone inside would need to be focused on saving Negan. 

So Reagan was her responsibility, and she wasn’t going to drop the ball again. 

She quickly ran after her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back from the scene. Reagan tugged against the hold. “Let me go! I have to make sure he’s okay! I have to…” 

Natalie didn’t wait for her to finish before she spun her around and held her head to her own chat, holding her tight, and stroking her hair soothingly. “Shh, Reagan. Shh. Look, we have to let them help, okay? We’ll go inside in a minute. I promise. But you’re gonna have to listen to them and stay out of their way. If you get in the middle of it now, it’s gonna make it worse, all right? Do you understand?”

Reagan was shaking in her arms, and Natalie squeezed her even harder as the other woman fell apart. She knew how much Reagan wanted to see Negan. Hell, she wanted to see him too, to know he was still alive, and she wasn’t even in love with him like Reagan, but Natalie knew she wasn’t wrong either. Reagan would do more harm than good by being in the fray. 

Her mind raced to consider the options while she let Reagan cry it out in her embrace. If this had been Beta pushing back for what Negan had done the other night, they needed to at least close the gate and only open it when the others made it home. If it was another club entirely, like the one they had problems with right before she had shown up, the fight might not come to them at all. Not in a direct way. But the lockdown would definitely get worse. 

Natalie knew what her mind was doing right now, but she was powerless to stop it too. She was trying to give herself things to focus on that she could control, instead of worrying about the things she could not. Like Daryl. She wanted to call him, to know he hadn’t been hurt too, but she pushed down the urge. 

As long as him not being all right was only theoretical, she could handle it. If she called him and found out the worst, she’d be losing it too. That wouldn’t help anyone 

Reagan let out one last shuddering sob and then went limp in Natalie’s arms. She hoisted the other woman up and went to sit them both down by the side door, under the canopy. 

“You okay?” she asked softly after a few quiet minutes. 

Reagan shook her head. “No.”

“Stupid question,” Natalie admitted. “I know you’re not gonna be all right until he is, okay? But if you’re gonna go in there, you have to be able to handle it.” She bit her lip, trying to find the exact right thing to say. “This is your job now, right? To be strong for him? For all of them. Your family. You don’t get a choice, Reagan. You know that.”

She nodded quickly. “I know. It’s just… I didn’t think it would be…” 

“So soon?” Natalie questioned, finishing for her. 

“Yeah,” Reagan whispered.    
  
“I know. I know.”

Natalie knew what she had gone through, or most of it anyway. Her father, her brother, being kidnapped by Beta’s goons. She had been forced to deal with more trauma in twenty years than most people ever dealt with in a whole lifetime, and she only deserved good things from now on. 

But that wasn’t how life worked, unfortunately. And least of all in a world governed by lawlessness and motorcycles. 

“You wanna go in?” Natalie suggested and Reagan nodded against her shoulder. “Okay. Come on. I’ll, uh, ask if you can hold his hand or something. All right?”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Reagan took another deep, deep breath, lifting her face and looking straight into Natalie’s probing eyes. She saw the obvious torment in Reagan’s gaze, but was also happy to see steel resolve behind it too. Reagan was stronger than any of them. 

Natalie stood up first and then held out her hand for Reagan, who clutched it and then basically dragged Natalie to the door. The first thing they saw was Negan on the table in the chapel. The doors were propped open as Jesus moved in and out quickly, probably bringing Aaron whatever he needed as he worked. 

The front rooms had been mostly cleared out, despite the lockdown. Everyone had probably given them some privacy, or Jesus had demanded. Either way, it was eerie. 

As Jesus came back out again and saw them, he wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and came straight to them. 

“Hey, Reagan,” he started softly. “Listen, I’m sorry we scared you like that. We shoulda called, but there wasn’t any time. I’ll let you in there, but he’s kinda out of it.” Reagan nodded mutely. “There’s a spot in the corner of the table where you can sit. I can take you, but you can’t freak out when you see all the blood, okay?”

She nodded again and Jesus put his hand on the small of her back and led her through the doors. Natalie knew to stay put unless she was invited, so she did just that, waiting patiently for any news. 

“I heard you out there,” Michonne said suddenly, causing Natalie to jump at the sound of her voice. “Sorry,” she chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nah. It’s cool. A little in my head there.”

“A bit,” Michonne said, laughing quietly too. “I, uh, just wanted to tell you that what you said was right. You did a good job.”

“Thanks? I think.”

Michonne laughed louder. “It was a compliment. I’ve just… never seen anyone get it so right before that’s not all in like we are.”

Natalie didn’t know how to respond like that, so she chose to stay quiet. 

“Are you sure you don’t have something you wanna tell me?” 

Natalie nodded. “Everything’s good with me. Just, uh, worried about Negan.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if you need someone to talk to, let me know, okay? Just ‘cause you’re not an Old Lady  _ yet _ doesn’t mean anything, okay?”

Natalie nodded again and watched as Michonne headed toward the kitchen, presumably for more towels. She wasn’t sure what to do with most of what had just happened, so she tried not to focus on it. More specifically, she tried not to focus on the part where Michonne had emphasized the word yet, like that’s where she was headed with Daryl. 

She had no idea what she was ready for, but she could hear Reagan in the other room talking softly to Negan and it brought a smile to her face. 

A few minutes later, Jesus appeared and walked back over to her. 

“What the hell happened?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Jesus put his hands on his hips and looked back to the chapel as he started to talk. “It was the damn Dead Ones. They ambushed us when we were almost back. Everybody else is fine,” he assured her, knowing what she was really asking without her having to say it. 

She couldn’t help that she relaxed visibly. “Good. Good. Is this… going to be an ongoing problem?”

“Not after we kill their whole goddamn club like we should’ve done months ago.” 

“Whoa there, cowboy,” Natalie said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No making decisions when you’re mad, okay? Plus, you know that one needs a vote.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take a vote all right. Yes or hell yes.”

Natalie laughed in spite of everything swirling around her. “How’s Negan?” she said, lowering her voice slightly. “Really.”

“Aaron thinks it looks worse than it really is,” he replied, shrugging. “But he has to find the damn bullet first. There’s no exit wound,” he growled. “It’s mostly just a lot of pain and digging around right now. Then he can really assess the damage and stuff. I mean, he didn’t bleed out on the damn road, so that’s good. The longer he’s in there, though…”

“The riskier it gets,” Natalie said seriously. “Is he totally out?”

“Nah. Aaron didn’t want to put him all the way under yet. Just in case. She’s talking to him now. I think it’s better this way. For both of them. You can go sit with her, if you want.”

Natalie bit her bottom lip and nodded, not sure she was ready to encroach on their time just yet. “Do you need anything first?”

He shook his head. “No. I got most of it covered. Thanks, though.”

Jesus patted her back as she started to walk toward the chapel and went straight for a chair near the wall behind Reagan, trying to keep her eyes focused on her friend. She took a seat just as Aaron held up a pair of tweezers triumphantly.

“Gotcha, you little fucker,” he hissed. “Jesus Christ.”

“What now?” Jesus asked, poking his head back in. 

“Not you, babe.” He turned his attention back to Negan, still staring at Reagan. “Home stretch, Negan. I’m gonna stitch you up. Want me to put you out now?”

“Gotta stay with my girl,” he answered firmly. 

“Sure thing, boss.”

Natalie could tell by Aaron’s face that he really wanted to argue, but he knew better too. Now that it seemed as if he might be out of the woods, Natalie could tell Reagan was ratcheting herself up again. And this time it was anger. 

Of course, Reagan angry was one of the cutest things ever, so she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the thought. 

Then she heard the door open and the rest of them streamed in. Natalie could pick out a few voices, but overall it was just a dull roar as they all talked at once. Rick and Daryl came in next at the head of the pack. Natalie stayed where she was, but didn’t miss that Daryl’s eyes searched for hers until he found them. He gave her a small smile before he did anything else and then went to check on Negan. 

“I’m gonna kill them all,” Reagan suddenly announced fiercely. “They’re not allowed to hurt you ever again. I’m not gonna let anyone I love…”

Negan put his free hand over hers, grunting the whole way as he forced himself more on his side so he could look at her properly. 

Daryl chuckled, breaking most of the tension, thankfully. “Let us take care of the war, Reagan. We got most of it cleaned up before we came home anyway. Okay? You just keep your man in bed for a few days until his bum leg heals up.”

A few people chuckled lightly, but it died off quickly when Negan finally spoke up. It was like he hadn’t heard Daryl’s words at all. 

“Marry me, Reagan.”

At that moment, it seemed like no one was even breathing. They were all witness to this incredibly sweet, and slightly awkward, moment, but Negan didn’t seem to care about any of that. He just waited patiently for an answer as Reagan sat there with her mouth open. 

“What?” she whispered. 

“You heard me,” Negan insisted, laughing weakly. “Marry me. Right now. Next week. Whenever you want. But I don’t wanna wait anymore. Marry me.”

Reagan’s red eyes filled with fresh tears, but Natalie knew they were much happier than before, and her worried lips curved upward into a radiant smile. 

“Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot.”

She leaned down to kiss him gently as several people whistled low. Jesus shook his head, nudging Daryl in his side. 

“Well, now you look  _ really _ bad,” he told him teasingly. 

Daryl caught Natalie’s eyes across the room just as she rolled them and he laughed, shaking his head and pointing at her. They’d been around each other long enough now for him to know that wasn’t on the table right this second. Maybe not ever. 

But, thankfully, most people were too busy congratulating Negan and Reagan to pay much attention to them. As it spread quickly through the clubhouse, Natalie heard Michonne announce loudly that it’d been forever since they’d had a proper wedding and she was in charge of planning, which caused Natalie to sigh heavily. 

Thank God something was going to work out for them. No matter what tomorrow brought now, today they could all be happy about this. 


	28. fireproof

Jesus sighed heavily as he slipped his kutte on, checking his pockets one more time to make sure he had everything he needed. 

Aaron came up behind him, putting an arm around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. “What’s with the sigh?” he wondered quietly, poking Jesus’ side playfully. “We’re going to a bachelor party. It’s _supposed_ to be fun.”

Jesus snorted his laughter and rolled his eyes. “Fun. Sure. A bunch of booze and _female_ strippers. Yippee,” he muttered. 

Aaron shrugged. “It’s not any different than literally all the other ones we’ve been to for the club,” he pointed out. “Why are you so bothered by it now?”

“I was always bothered by it, Aaron,” he insisted. “I just never said anything before. But now we have a kid and stuff. I’d just… rather stay home and not pretend anymore.”

Now it was Aaron’s turn to sigh as he let his arms fall before walking back to the bed and sitting down, staring at his feet. “You know we don’t have to pretend even if we’re out there, right?” he asked gently. 

He felt the bed dip close by, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to look up. He was afraid he’d lose his nerve. He wanted desperately to have this conversation, but didn’t know if Jesus was ready. And hearing that he wasn’t would break his heart. 

“What is it?” Jesus asked, putting a finger under his chin and forcing him to look up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… we’ve been dancing around this for forever,” Aaron said. “We have two houses, we keep our distance in public. But, Paul, we _are_ together. And everyone knows it. It just seems silly to keep tiptoeing around this thing.”

“This _thing_? Thought it was a bit more serious than all that,” Jesus said, perking an eyebrow at him. “And damn, I must be in trouble. You called me Paul.”

He gave Aaron a wink, causing him to roll his eyes. Comedy had been Jesus’ coping mechanism since forever, and Aaron knew that, but he wished he wouldn’t use it with him. He wished his walls could come all the way down. At least at home. 

Aaron stood up with a huff and started toward the door, his eyes stinging with tears as he started to leave the room.

But before he made it very far, Jesus was linking their fingers together and forcing him to stay put. “Sorry,” he said. “I… sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron lied. 

“No, it’s not,” Jesus insisted. “We need to talk about this. You’re right.”

“Say it again,” Aaron teased, his smile widening. 

Jesus rolled his eyes. “You, Aaron, are correct. Better?”

“A little,” he stated. 

Jesus pulled him back to the bed to sit down and Aaron let him lead him without complaint. There wasn’t a time that Aaron could think of, actually, that he wouldn’t let Jesus take control if he asked. He trusted him implicitly. 

“Listen, I think two houses is ridiculous,” Jesus said finally. “Gracie needs one home and two parents. We are her parents, so let’s pick one house and stick with it. Sell the other.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you, Paul?” Aaron whispered. 

He wanted it to be true so badly, but he was afraid to believe in that kind of stuff anymore. While the club and Charming were much more progressive than lots of people gave them credit for, he had convinced himself a long time ago that there was no way he could have both lives. 

And yet, here he was with Paul Rovia telling him that he wanted to live in the same house as him as a couple. He must’ve heard something wrong. 

“I am,” Jesus answered. “I should’ve done it a long time ago, but I’m an idiot, okay? Nothing’s gonna happen to us here. This is our home. No one’s gonna yell at us or tell us we’re going to Hell. At least not inside Charming. And never someone in the club. Even if they didn’t know, which I know they all do, Negan would kill someone over that homophobic bullshit and you know it.”

“So you wanna come out too?”

Jesus nodded. “I mean, yeah. We both already are anyway. What’s the difference? Unless… that’s not what you want.”

His eyes went wide as he searched Aaron’s face. But Aaron couldn’t think of anything profound or romantic to say. So he did the one thing he could think of and leaned forward. When their lips met, Jesus let out another, much different kind of sigh. He seemed content and Aaron’s heart swelled at the idea. 

When he pulled back, Jesus’ smile was back in place and his eyes fluttered open once more. “So… I don’t have to pretend to like the strippers?” Jesus teased. 

Aaron chuckled. “There aren’t going to be any strippers.” He winked. “Negan said he didn’t want to start his new life with Reagan having her be mad at him.”

“You fucking jerk,” Jesus accused lightheartedly. “This whole thing started because I was worrying about damn strippers.”

“And I used it to start a conversation I’ve wanted to have for a while,” Aaron replied, very pleased with himself. “Whatcha gonna do, sue me?”

Jesus grinned. “No, but I might fuck that grin off your face.”

Aaron chuckled and gave him another kiss before standing up and pulling the other man with him and directly into a hug. “I’m sorry, but it was totally worth it. Especially if that’s how my night is gonna end later.”

“Oh, you’re devious as hell and you bet your sweet ass that’s how it’s gonna end.”

Aaron couldn’t help it as he shivered at the thought of all that Jesus might have in mind, happy that they had thought far enough ahead to let Melody watch Gracie for the night. 

“Speaking of your sweet ass,” Jesus whispered, leaning forward for another kiss. “If we’re telling everyone we’re officially an item, does this mean I get to beat up anyone who looks at you now?”

To punctuate his statement, he reached around and grabbed Aaron’s ass, pressing them together momentarily. 

“What have I done?” Aaron asked no one in particular as he smirked to himself. 

“Created a damn monster,” Jesus warned, letting go and heading for the door finally. “And now we’re gonna go tell everyone _all_ about it.” 

Aaron shook his head as he headed out behind him, chuckling the whole way. 

* * *

The party ended up being a bit more wild than Aaron had thought it would be, but he supposed that was to be expected. It was a motorcycle club, after all. Not that he was paying much attention to the festivities either way. Since they had walked in, as promised, Jesus hadn’t been shy about his public displays of affection and Aaron was soaking it up. 

Granted, Aaron also knew it got way worse than this too. Some of their more delinquent tendencies were being curbed by the fact that they were in the clubhouse. While all the families and small kids had been moved to a secure facility for the evening, surrounded by Shane’s best men, they still weren't getting as loud as they might normally be somewhere else. This was basically home for a lot of the guys, so acting too foolish wasn’t really an option. 

Which Aaron appreciated right now. 

They were also still technically on lockdown. The wedding tomorrow was also set to take place in Melody and Shane’s backyard, so there wasn’t any real need to get super rowdy. 

Of course, in his infinite wisdom, Shane had ignored all of Negan’s pleas and hired strippers after all. As they paraded through the door and most of the partygoers whooped, Negan groaned loudly. 

“What the hell, Shane? I said no strippers!”

“Aw, come on. How many times we get to do this for you? I don’t need ‘em and you don’t need ‘em, but…” He motioned to the room at large. “Someone might.”

“I don’t need ‘em either,” Rick added. “Where’s Carl? Someone cover his eyes. He’s too young to see this.”

“Dad, I’m in my 20s!” Carl called loudly from somewhere across the room.

“Yeah, but your momma is gonna know somehow. She always does. And then we’re both in trouble,” Rick retorted, making everyone laugh.

“Okay, so me, Negan, Rick, and Carl don’t need strippers,” Shane amended. He glanced toward Daryl, who was slumped in the corner, beer in hand, and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “And let’s just add Daryl for good measure. But lots of other people need ‘em, and this _is_ a party right? Besides, it had to be me. My favorite loophole in this whole thing is that I’m not part of your club, technically, so I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Negan grumbled. “I’d kick your ass if it wasn’t the night before my wedding.” 

“Aw, Negan,” Shane drawled. “Scared I’ll give you a black eye?”

Negan snorted. “No. Afraid I’ll bloody my knuckles beatin’ the shit outta you and Reagan’ll notice when she puts my ring on, though.”

Everyone burst out laughing again, and even Aaron joined in this time, sitting with his arms around Jesus. They stayed on the couch and waved away any strippers that came over to them, and he was perfectly content like this. They were with their friends, their family, and they were together. 

For the first time, it didn’t get better than this. 

But he also wasn’t surprised when Negan came to join them either. “You two look cozy,” he observed, grinning wide. “We gonna have another wedding soon? I mean, I’d say Daryl and Natalie were next, but…”

Jesus laughed heartily. “You’ll be waiting at least… I say five years on that one.”

Aaron shook his head, but played along. “Are we starting an official pool?”

Negan shook his head too and took a sip of his beer. “It’ll add five years to that original five, so no,” he observed. “They’ll both hold out just to be stubborn and to make sure none of us win.” He paused. “But you gonna answer my original question? Did all that playin’ house with baby Gracie finally pay off?” 

Aaron was surprised to see Jesus actually blush. “I mean,” he ventured, “yes. We do have a baby and we’re cutting out this two houses bullshit soon too.”

“Shit, you two are moving in together?” Negan wondered. “Congrats! ‘Bout fucking time.” He stopped and then added, “Which one are you sellin’? I can’t have my wife and the kids I know she wants in the backroom of this filthy clubhouse.”

Aaron chuckled. “Neither of ours is big enough for how many kids Reagan wants, Negan,” he teased him. 

He also found himself gratified when Negan gulped nervously before regaining his composure over the thought of all those kids running around. 

Jesus clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll help you find one, though. How about that?”

Negan nodded. “I’d appreciate it.” He stretched out his legs and started to absentmindedly rub the spot where he’d been shot. “Seriously, though. You guys all out and proud now, or whatever the PC term is?”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, Negan, because you are not eloquent,” Aaron teased him. “Out and proud is fine,” he assured him. 

“A tad dramatic, though,” Jesus muttered. 

“Whatever, you two have my support,” Negan promised. “And anyone pulls any shit, in the club or otherwise, tell me. Okay?”

“Thanks, boss,” Jesus said sincerely. 

“Yeah,” Aaron tacked on. “It’s good to know you have our backs.”

“Always.” Negan stood. “I gotta make my rounds, talk to everyone else. See you two later, okay?”

He left and Aaron settled back, putting an arm around Jesus, letting himself just watch the party unfold around him. “You doing okay with this so far?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in the other man’s ear. 

Jesus nodded. “Yeah, you?”

“Of course,” Aaron answered easily. “You gonna have any more to drink?” 

“Nah. I kinda want to be semi-sober for… later. And we still have a wedding tomorrow. I don’t wanna be at an outdoor wedding with a toddler hungover. That sounds like actual hell.”

Aaron laughed. “Very true.” He stood up next and pulled Jesus up too. “What do you say we make our own round and then get outta here?”

“I’d love that. But we gotta make sure nothing gets too crazy.”

“Yeah, and we have to guarantee there won’t be any wedding crashers either. Negan does have… quite the past.”

Jesus wrinkled his nose. “Come on. Let’s go on it, then.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Aaron purred in Jesus’ ear as they walked over to the crowd. “Let’s make sure nobody’s misbehavin’ too badly.”

He chuckled again when he noticed the way Jesus shivered, and he couldn’t help but love how much his little actions affected him. If this was what he had in store for the rest of his life, he was more than happy to tease Jesus just like this from now until forever. 


	29. nothing it can

Negan had to hand it to Aaron and Jesus. Thanks to their timely rounds and babying of everyone the night before, everyone had been on time and most weren’t even all that hungover. He couldn’t remember the last time he could claim something like that. 

Maybe not ever. 

He peered into the backyard from one of the kid’s bedrooms he was in and noticed everyone helping set up there. Since Shane and Melody had always wanted a huge family, they had made sure to choose a gigantic backyard, and since Melody was not one to let anything she owned look like a mess, it was exquisite. It was the absolute best place for their wedding, given neither he or Reagan was all that religious. 

Negan tried to calm his nerves as he stared out at the scene before him. He could see Carl and some of the other Prospects putting out chairs in straight lines, messing around and probably dishing out pretty colorful jokes, but he couldn’t make anything out. And he wasn’t allowed out there. The room that Natalie was in wasn’t that far away and if he went out there, she’d see him before it was time. 

A rule that Michonne was being pretty obnoxious about. 

He hadn’t spent this much time apart from Reagan in a long time and he wasn’t liking it. If they weren’t careful, he was going to get grumpy, though he wasn’t sure that would scare Michonne all that much. She’d dealt with worse than Negan in her life. 

But he couldn’t help himself either. 

Which was why he peered out into the hallway and noticed it was empty before sneaking toward the makeshift bridal suite at the back of the house. But before he could make it to turn down the last hallway, Michonne was in front of him, her arms crossed sternly over her chest. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Negan?” she demanded. 

As mean as her face was right now, the whole vibe she was giving off was ruined by the gorgeous yellow dress Reagan had picked out for her maid of honor and bridesmaids. But he also knew she could probably still kick his ass in that thing if she wanted to, so he just shrugged his shoulders. 

He’d been caught. 

“Would you believe nothing, ‘Chonne?” he tried, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

She snorted. “Nope. Nothing my ass.” She pulled out her phone from the pocket in her dress and pressed a number. “Rick, come do your damn job and be the best man. Keep Negan outta here.”

Negan looked at her sheepishly. “Damn, Momma. You gotta rat me out to Dad?” he joked, grinning at her. 

She couldn’t help grinning back. “Yes, I did. Now wipe that smug look off your face and get outta here. You’re gonna see her in a few minutes. You can wait that long.”

He pretended to pout as she backed down the hallway, pointing a finger at him. “I’m watching you, Negan.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Just make sure she doesn’t run away on me, all right?”

Michonne laughed loudly as she cracked the door and slipped in. “Not a chance. You’ve got her for life, Negan. Don’t worry.”

“Good. That’s all I want.”

She gave him a wink and he turned to head to the kitchen near the back porch, running into Rick along the way. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered again, waving him off. “I know I wasn’t supposed to.”

“You can get laid tonight, boss,” Rick laughed, putting an arm around him. “Come on. Everything is ready outside finally. Come assume the position and get ready to be whipped for the rest of your life.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, giving a little chuckle as he followed Rick to the altar and waited for his life to begin. 

* * *

Reagan glanced up as Michonne walked back into the room. “Was that Negan?” she asked eagerly. She’d heard his voice in the hallway and her heart was still skipping a beat. “Can I see him?”

Michonne shook her head firmly. “No. The ceremony starts in, like, five minutes, woman. You can wait.”

“Besides,” Natalie added, “your hair is not ready yet. Just a few more flowers.”

She was still busy artfully arranging flowers in Reagan’s loose red hair and Reagan whined petulantly. “How many more do I need? It already looks like a garden exploded on my head. I want to see Negan.”

“You’re gonna be seeing so much of him soon you’re gonna get sick of him,” Natalie teased. “Just chill for five seconds, all right?”

“I can’t chill!” Reagan insisted. “I’m getting married.”

Natalie laughed lightly. “Yes, I did know that, surprisingly. This isn’t, like, my normal Tuesday outfit. And I do not put on shit like this for just anyone, so calm down and let me finish, woman.”

Reagan beamed at her reflection in the mirror when Natalie put one more flower in her hair and then backed away, allowing her to get the full effect. She put her hands gently over her white dress. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was still absolutely stunning and fit her like a glove. The subtle lace trim held it all together in a magical sort of way, though she was sure it wouldn’t have mattered what she picked out. Negan would love it anyway. 

Natalie watched her and rolled her eyes after a few more seconds. “I thought you were ready to go? And now you’re gettin’ all misty-eyed in the mirror. You know I’m only letting you get all fluffy because it’s your wedding day, right? After this, no more. It’s gross.”

Reagan giggled. “Aw, come on. You know you love me.”

“Hell yes I do. Look at me,” she said, pointing to her dress. “I hate yellow. I look like a big ball of sunshine.”

“I didn’t expect my maid of honor to be so grumpy,” Reagan retorted, winking at her. 

“Whatever,” Natalie grumbled, grinning at her. “Come on. You’re ready. Let’s go get you hitched.”

Michonne texted Rick to start up the music as all the other girls lined up in the hallway. The bridesmaids went first, at the pace they had practiced, and then it was Natalie, and then Reagan. As she walked out, she realized basically the entire town was in attendance. Charming must be shut down. 

“Michonne, did you invite  _ everyone _ ?” Reagan hissed as she stared out at the crowd. 

She glanced back at Reagan over her shoulder. “Damn straight. This is an event.”

Reagan blushed as Michonne and Natalie started toward the altar and all eyes fell on her. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but then she spotted Negan. His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes were wide as he stared at her. She blushed a bit deeper, but managed to smile at him, if only for what he was wearing. She knew a suit was out of the question, andt his jeans and kutte were present, as they always were, but his white shirt underneath was a dress shirt, and he was even sporting a tie. 

And she thought it was perfect. From the look on his face, he thought the same about her. She found herself wanting to run the rest of the way to meet him, but figured plowing down her best friends wasn’t a cute look. 

When she finally made it to the front, Shane, who was officiating, used his booming voice to quiet the crowd. 

“All right, all right, y’all, settle down now,” he started. “We are gathered here on this glorious day to witness the marriage of our big boss, Negan, and our girl, Reagan Teller. Fucking finally!” he shouted. 

As usual, his grandstanding like a TV pastor made everyone laugh. “Anyway,” he continued. “Now that it’s happening, these two have some pretty important things to say to each other. And I better let them do it before they chicken out or the zombie apocalypse starts and breaks up our little shindig.”

He gestured to Reagan first, who turned to hand her flowers to Natalie so she could hold both of Negan’s hands in hers. She had thought about this speech a lot over the last few days, and after some good advice from Natalie and Michonne, she’d decided to keep it simple. 

“I have loved you for longer than I can remember, Negan,” she told him. “I am thrilled to be your wife, and I promise to be loyal to you forever.”

She beamed at him as she finished and he blinked in surprise. “That’s it?” he whispered loudly, making the crowd laugh again, particularly Shane. 

She giggled too. “You’re the one who can’t stop runnin’ their mouth. Not me,” she quipped.

He flipped her off affectionately, inspiring yet another round of laughter. “You’re lucky I love you, woman,” he drawled. 

“That’s all you wrote for your vows?” she gasped in mock surprise, pressing a hand to her heart dramatically. 

Negan smirked and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close. He rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath before speaking. “Reagan Teller, I promise to love and protect you to the best of my ability, and to be loyal to you always.”

“And to ride her as much as your Harley!” Carl tacked on loudly from where he was standing behind Negan. 

When no one else said it, he looked around bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Umm, I thought we did that for every wedding…”

Rick stood next to him, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. Even Daryl was stifling his laughter behind his hand. Negan, however, just chuckled along and nodded at Reagan as he pulled back. “And to ride you as much as my Harley,” he added with a wink before glancing back at Carl. “You owe me one, kid.”

Reagan waited for Negan to continue, but he just grinned and licked his lips. “That’s it,” he assured her. “You’re not the only one who got advice, I guess.”

He then turned to nod at Shane, who shrugged and looked out at the crowd again. “Well, I budgeted about two hours for the vows part, so we have some extra time on our hands, people,” he said. “What do you say we move this along and get to the party, huh?” Everyone clapped loudly as Shane shouted over the noise. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

The crowd erupted in more cheers and clapping and Shane didn’t bother telling Negan to kiss her because he dipped her almost immediately. And he put everything in that kiss. By the time he lifted her back up, she could hardly breathe. 

She smiled at him giddily as Natalie, Rick, and the rest of their wedding party split off to get food ready for the reception. They made their way back down the aisle and into the house, both glad for a few second’s worth of silence before the dancing, games, and other fun. 

She was glad everyone was going to have a good time, but all she wanted was to spend the rest of her time wrapped up in Negan’s arms. She was going to be his forever, and that’s all that mattered to her today. And for the rest of her life. 


End file.
